Hermione's Son
by FirstYear
Summary: Hermione,devastated during the Battle of Hogwarts, leaves wounded and alone. Taking years to mentally and physically heal,she must make peace with not only herself, but a son she never wanted and was unable to face until circumstances made it necessary.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Hermione's Story: May 1998**

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It was easy to blend into the shadows at the back of the hall. It was easy to watch the grief that played out in front of her and to pretend that she was not part of it. Hermione looked at the bodies laid out on the tables and wondered if they would ever know who had thrown the killing curses. It really didn't matter, she thought, not in a battle, not in a war.

"Hermione?" Potter lifted the invisibility cloak over his head as he pulled her back further away from the others. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she whispered. "You need to go. It's Fred, when the wall fell…."

"I know, come with me."

"No, I … I need to … not now." She licked her lips and looked around the hall. "I lost my wand. I think someone _Accioed_ it or maybe it was an _Expelliarmus_. I don't remember, everything moved too fast."

Harry lifted his hand and called, "Accio Hermione's wand." He waited a few moments before shaking his head, feeling foolish for trying. "I'll try again outside."

"I need it," she said flatly, clutching a set of discarded robes to her chest. "If the Aurors are testing the wands they will want it."

"I don't think they will, at least not for us. They may for the Death Eaters, at least the ones they are not sure of."

Hermione felt her eyes wander across the hall before she found the Malfoys. "Why only them?"

"Hermione? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine I think, just…this is too much. What did you say about the wands?"

"Anyone that wears the mark will be tested and I am sure pulled in for questioning. At least that's what I'd expect them to do." He frowned and turned her face to the side. "You're hurt. Your face is a right mess. You were bleeding. What happened?"

"I fell," she choked. "I don't know … on the stairs perhaps."

"Maybe that's where you lost your wand. You should see Madam Pomfrey, you don't look too good."

"I tried, but she said I was fine and that she was too busy for such little things. There are so many hurt, Harry. So many …and so many dead. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Listen, Snape's gone. "

"Gone? You mean he is dead. I know. Remember?"

"I thought so," he said, looking around nervously. "You saw what happened. The Ministry is rounding up the bodies for a mass cremation. I thought…well, he doesn't deserve that, so I wanted to bring him up here, into the hall with the others. Only, he's gone."

"Someone must have already moved him, that or the Aurors got to him first." Hermione lifted her right hand and studied her palm. "I must have fallen harder then I thought. Strange, I don't remember where."

Harry took her hand and looked at the scraped and bleeding palm, then took his wand and passed it over the damaged skin before waving it at her face. "I was never real good at this, but it should do until it calms down and you can get proper treatment. Bloody hell, it looks like you got kicked by a dragon."

"Thanks," she whispered, feeling her eyes fill with tears. "Remus and Tonks… both…"

"Don't," Harry said with a scowl as he turned quickly to the room as a howl of anguish cut the air.

"I don't want to hear this," Hermione sobbed. "My god, how many? How many gone?"

"Thirty six so far, but it has to be more." Harry swallowed hard.

"On both sides?"

"I don't give a fuck how many they lost. They could all be dead for all I care."

"I know." Hermione licked her lips again and looked away from him. "It was harder than I thought it would be. Before we always fought to get away or to… not like this… not to kill and not even knowing who…not like this."

"Yeah, that's why it's called a war," he spat. "I have to go. I told Neville I would help search the castle."

"Search? For what?"

"Bodies, injured. Are you sure you are okay? You seem…are you sure?"

"Yes, I just need to find my wand. Did I tell you I lost it?"

Harry nodded and pulled the cloak over his head again, managing to transverse the hall without anyone stopping him. She saw Neville turn his head, talk as if at the wall, and then leave the room before she slumped to the floor, putting her back to the cold stones and pulling her knees up under her chin.

She was glad that most of the Death Eaters had worn masks. She did not have to think about who had done what or to whom. She had not hesitated before throwing a curse and had responded without thinking, just hurling back hex for hex. It would make it easier to forget, she thought. Easier to forget the who, and only remember the why.

She felt cold as a spasm racked her body. Too cold for this time of year, she thought inanely. Lowering her head until her chin was on her chest she sobbed, covering her ears from the sounds of others doing the same. _I need a potion_, she thought suddenly, lifting her head and drying her face, beginning to move as the alternative of sitting and thinking was too much.

Seeing Madam Pomfrey working on the students that still lay on the tables, she stood and shakily started out of the room, making a list in her mind of what potions she should collect. Pain, that was a given, and a blood replenisher if the feeling in her chest was any indication of what she could expect to find. She had packed herself the best she could with clean-absorbent bandages, but knew this was more than would be safe to trust to simple healing spells. She added an antibiotic to her mental list as she skirted the room, and finally made it to the hallway then up to the infirmary.

It was easy to walk in and take the potions she needed. Much easier than she would have imagined, if she had stopped to think about what she was doing. The potions cupboard stood open and accessible, the staff and other students too busy to pay attention to her. Gathering what she needed, she hurried to the empty History classroom and sat in one to the desks, drinking the potions and waiting for the pain potion to kick it. Once it did, she was able to make it back to her room where she undressed; sucking in air between her teeth as she removed the blood soaked bandages, and sat on the bathroom floor, lowering her head as the room swam around her.

She needed her wand. She had not thought about what would happen when she had ran from the dungeon, leaving it behind, unable to bring herself to push his body away and pick it up. Now she had to do the best she could with what she had.

_Fuck_, she hissed as a shot of pain tore at her left breast. Grabbing hold of the sink with her right arm, as her left cradled a towel to her chest. She pulled her body up and waited until her breathing became steady before looking at the damage she had sustained.

If she had been faster, more powerful and accurate with her spell, he would not have had time to throw a Sectumsempra at her. She had felt the slice and had heard its razor sharp hiss at it had hit her with a glancing blow. He moved behind her, seeking to leave the dungeons. She remembered turning slowly, throwing her own curse in return, able to shout an Avada Kedavra only to have him dodge the streaming light she had hurled at him. She remembered dropping her wand as she had collapsed, as the pain overwhelmed her, watching her curse go wildly to the left, hitting the other instead, a look of wonder on his face as he clutched his chest and fell slowly onto her wand.

She raised her eyes to the mirror, unable to look at the wound directly and felt her face crumple into tears. It hurt. It hurt so damned bad that even the pain potion took only the edge. She pushed the ripped flesh back to cover the exposed muscle and pressed it closed to help stem the bleeding; fighting not to pass out or to retch up vomit that she could taste in the back of her throat.

Positioning the skin as best she could she looked around, desperate to find something to pad the bandage with. She folded a flannel with one hand and carefully slid it under the hand she had pressed against her wound. She held it together as tightly as she could, and then reached for the bandages. By the time she was done wrapping the bandage around her body to hold the flannel tightly in place, she felt she had run miles and again sat to rest. Laying her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes and tried to think, only to snap her eyes open when she saw his dead body as it had lain in the dungeons and heard the scurry of a robe's fabric as it had sounded fleeing in the dark.

Managing to sit on the side of the tub, she washed the best she could, needing to remove any trace of the blood that had begun to dry and cake on her stomach and thighs. She dressed, and threw on a travelling cloak to hide the bandage that she thought altered her shape. Wincing, she realized it was not just her breast that was affected as she had difficultly moving her left arm as well. Hoping it was from the fall, and not the injury, she headed back to the infirmary for more potions. She now knew she had not taken enough.

.

.

.

"Mione?" Harry squatted down next to her and gently shook her shoulder. "Mione? Wake up. I need to talk to you."

Hermione struggled to sit, rising on her right elbow and rotating to the side she managed to get her back against the wall and sit up groggily. Looking around the Great Hall, she saw most of the bodies were gone and fewer families stood around those remaining.

"What ?" she choked out, trying to keep her voice even.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I had trouble sleeping. I took a dreamless potion."

"Too much by the look of you," Harry frowned. "Listen, have you found your wand?"

"My wand?"

"Were you in the dungeons? Hermione? Were you down there yesterday?"

Hermione looked into his eyes, wanting to let the question go unanswered but unable to remember why. "I…I don't know…I can't…no...No I don't think so."

"No? You may want to tell the Aurors to keep an eye out for it. They have the stairs to the dungeons blocked so if that's where you fell it may take a while. They are having trouble with the Lumos…seems the candles were spelled off and they can't even carry one down there without it going out. Every time they try, they go out. It's too dark to inspect until they get a curse breaker in."

"Perhaps that's it," she said weakly, looking around the room.

"I haven't been able to find Ron. He may be in the dungeons but until they can see they can't even look for him and Neville says there are some sixth years caught in the greenhouse…we can't get to them either."

"He may be there. He may have gone into help them," she said nodding. "He should be with his family. Molly will want him with her."

"Hermione?" Harry took hold of her chin and turned her face to his. "What's wrong? You need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Is Jamie's father a Death Eater?" She said absently, seeing the first year she had met that morning, sitting by himself, his head on the table as he cried. "No, no mark on his arm and McGonagall said he showed up to help, him and his wife. Anyway, you may have to have to collect your wand from the Ministry when this calms down. I'm sure it'll turn up."

"They don't all wear marks," she said flatly. "Sometimes they just…"

"Mione? Something's wrong…tell me what happened. I know Ron was with you…where is he?" he asked tersely.

"Later, if I remember…later." She bit her lip as her eyes flooded with tears. "I have to think. I have to … I can't …not yet. Harry? I didn't think it would be like this. Not like this. Not with so many dead and … I just need time to think. It's as if every thing is mixed up and I can't remember things or …or make my magic work the way it should. I tried…but…everything was off…I couldn't … my aim…nothing worked the way it normally does."

"Your magic? I thought you said you lost your wand? Listen, Jamie is here by himself. He just heard about his dad and his mum is taking some of the better patients home. If you feel up to it…"

Hermione nodded and refused to let her eyes meet his. "I want Ron."

"I know," he said quietly. "Mione, you need to rest…try to get some more sleep…without those damned potions…then try to get to Madam Pomfrey again. You hit your head, maybe that's it. You…you need something…maybe something to calm you down."

"I thought he would say good bye but everything moved too fast and he only…I saw him, but he … you go on I'll wait here."

"Mione? What to you mean? You know where Ron went?"

"No, not for sure…I …I keep forgetting things. You go on," she sighed loudly. "Let me wake up. It's confusing. I think he was there, but it couldn't have been him. He would have… I don't know, he would have called out to me. He would have… I don't think it was him. Now that I think about it, no, it wasn't. You know Ron. He would be out helping not sitting around here. Maybe he's with Neville, ask him."

"Sure." He stood and looked down at her with a look of puzzlement evident on his face. "If you need anything…"

"I'll let you know," she said smiling weakly. "Go, I need to wake up…it's the potion. Everything is muddled."

She watched him walk away and looked back to where Jamie Curtis sat alone, his head on his arms, sobbing, alone at one of the tables.

_She had heard a voice. A voice she could have sworn was calling for help, a young voice, perhaps a cry, she could almost remember. She followed the noise into the dark corridor of the dungeons. It had been dark. Yes, very dark, she remembered, but she had known the way, known every turn and every door and had traversed the hallways with no need of a Lumos_.

She licked her lips again, and used her right hand to touch the cheek that had slammed into the wall when she had been grabbed from behind. She looked at the palms of her hands and knew they had been bloodied in her attempts to push and claw herself away from the cold stone, and remembered the husky whispered warning in her ear to _'be good'_ and to stop fighting.

Now, she looked at Jamie and suddenly did not know if the warning was just that, a warning to be careful, or the more sinister warning of a Death Eater who had caught her alone in the dungeons.

_No_, she thought, _I felt him, I heard him, and I know what he was going to do_. Hot tears filled her eyes as she remembered things moving too quickly, being spun around too fast, being pushed to the floor too hard, being told to stay down as she crawled away and struggled to stand up, hearing the curses begin.

She closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath as she again saw him standing in front of her when she had gotten away and stood to face him. His eyes …not focused on her, not on her she saw now, but something behind her. Someone shouting at her to get down, to move aside.

"No!" She said aloud as her eyes flew open. _No_, she thought_, it was me he was cursing_. She felt bile rise up the back of her throat as the memory of dodging the curse, of catching just the edge of the flash, letting the rest of it go beyond her, and then feeling the magic flowing out of her wand, as she had shouted her own Avada Kedavra and spun back to her attacker.

It didn't make sense. She wanted to forget and she wanted to understand. She remembered screaming until her throat was raw with the taste of blood. She remembered craning her neck as something laid on her and held her still, hurting her in a way she could not come to terms with, in a way she refused to accept. She had craned her neck away from her attacker, and searched for _him_, searched for Ron. Finding his eyes open and unseeing, seeing his hand that still reached in her direction, his wand still held in his hand. Hoping it was the curse the Death Eater had thrown that had stolen his life even as she knew it was her ill cast Avada Kedavra. She shut out the pain she felt, shut off her mind and took herself away from the dungeons, erasing them from her mind as surly as she would have done had she been able to put a memory charm on herself.

She stood slowly and held her left arm across her stomach, cradling it with her right. Walking to the front door, she pushed it open with her hip and started her walk to Hogsmeade. She wanted to go home. She wanted to step onto the Hogwarts Express, go to 9 ¾'s, and have her parents waiting for her. She wanted to leave and be safe, and know that her mum and dad were waiting for her. She wanted to not remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Twelve Years Later**

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Hermione pulled off the main road into a parking lot, not yet slowing down as she dug through a pile of papers on the passenger's seat. Later she would claim she was almost to a complete stop when the other vehicle cut in front of her before the squealing of brakes and the sudden grinding of metal against metal occurred, but at the time, she knew she was at fault.

Her head whipped forward, slamming back against the headrest as the airbag exploded in her face and the seat belt snapped across her chest, soliciting a groan of pain. It was over so quickly that she barely had time to register the fact that she was not seriously injured before someone was attempting to yank her door open and telling her not to move.

"I'm fine," she grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to pull the seatbelt away. "Fuck, it hurts."

Opening her eyes she saw a hand hovering in front of her and heard a quiet _Alohomora_ as the belt released and fell away. Another flick of the thin wrist and she felt the pain in her chest recede. Pushing her hair from her face she squinted into the sun, trying to see who had come to her rescue, sure that she had seen wrongly in a moment of confusion from the accident.

"You are fine now. Careful, there are Muggles coming."

Still resting on the back of the seat, she rotated her head to look at the wizard that had been in the other auto. "Snape?"

"Not now. I am the stranger who you just ran into," he said quietly. "I need to get away from this without alerting their authorities."

The loud hiss of white steam curling from under the bonnet brought Hermione's attention back to the front of the auto. "Fuck! What about me you arse? My car's smashed."

"Obviously," Snape said with a smirk. "I am afraid, however, that the radiator is the least of your problems."

"How bad is the rest of it?" She asked, batting down the white plastic of the airbag and craning her neck to see over the broken windscreen.

"It appears to be an older model."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You need a new one."

She tried to push the door open as people came running to her and Severus, shouting at her not to move and that help was on the way. She looked at Severus, hissing for him to open the door quickly before the police showed up. He raised his eyebrow and smirked, tugging on the door, finally grabbing the handle with both hands while one of the Muggles grabbed the window frame and with Hermione pushing from the inside they were able to pull it open. Gathering up her papers that were now strewn all over the seat and floor, she climbed out, looking down at her ripped nylons.

"Shite," she muttered.

"You okay lady?"

"I'm fine."She walked to the front of the bonnet and looked at the damage done before inspecting Snape's auto. She turned to him with a glare when she realized he had already repaired it. As she listened to him explaining to the bystanders that it was a stroke of luck that he had received so little damage, only a few still visible scratches, she wanted to throttle him.

He then put his arm tenderly around her shoulders and led her to the passenger side of his auto, opening the door and waiting until she had swung her legs inside to close the door. Despite the observers continued warnings that they should not leave before the authorities arrived, he said something under his breath about taking the lady to the hospital and that he would return. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Hermione saw him again wave his hand in a precise motion and his lips moving in an incantation.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Changing the identifying numbers and wiping their surveillance camera clean. We do not need them finding either one of us."

"I need them to! I have to put it on my insurance!"

"Miss Granger, do you have a drivers licence? I only ask because of your willingness to leave so quickly."

"Of course I…well…it's expired here but I have one from the States, but it's my parents' insurance. I could have said someone nicked the blasted car and left it here after the accident. Now you've ruined it!"

"I see. Tell me, Miss Granger, will their insurance pay if you do not have a valid licence here?"

"I'll take that risk," Hermione said uncertainly. "Anyway…why aren't you dead?"

"I will pay what you would have recovered. Rather Hogwarts will since I am here on business," he said, looking at her strangely, ignoring her question. "A most generous offer since you were clearly at fault."

"You don't know how to drive," Hermione pushed back against the seat at the same time she pressed her feet against the floor. "Before you get us both killed…again for some of us…pull over. I'll drive. And it was worth…at least a thousand pounds."

Snape turned his head slowly and looked at her incredulously.

"Fine, but it was worth at least seven hundred," she muttered.

"Five." He intoned.

"Pull over…you are running off the road. I…"

"Yes, it appears you do so much better. I will remind you that it was you that hit me."

"Shut up," she said, her eyes large as he darted around the lorry she had only moments before thought he was about to run into. "What are you doing here?"

"I may ask the…"

"I asked you first," she snipped.

Severus sighed heavily and slowed down, pulling off the main road onto a small feeder before applying the brake and coming to a halt. "If you insist on acting like a child I will leave you here."

She grew quiet and looked out the side window. "I am signing papers …or was before all this. My parents died and I'm selling the house to pay off the rest of the bills and taxes. I still have to get there. It took me two months to get this bloody appointment."

"I am sorry for your loss," he said automatically. "However, this is a further reason that your insurance claim would be denied. If they are no longer with us, their policy may not be valid. I have no idea about Muggle legalities any longer. However, you may want to check on that before notifying the authorities and causing me more problems."

"We lost Dad last year and Mum this spring. She just gave up I think," Hermione said softly. "If you could drop me at the train station I can still make it. Look away a minute, I have to get these off."

She waited until he turned his head and pushed her shoulders back against the seat, raising her hips as she pulled off her hose. "Okay, done."

Snape turned around and pulled back into traffic, heading back the way they had come. "Where is the solicitor?"

"Reading, right off the A-4. He used to have his offices in London but moved a couple of years back. Why?"

"As you may be aware, I am not familiar with…driving."

"Gee," she sniggered, smoothing down her skirt. "I never would have…Watch out…that's it. Pull over. That was a stop you just blew through! You've been in one accident already."

"Miss Granger, must I remind you once again who was at fault? I assure you…"

"Assure your own arse, pull over. What are you doing out here anyway? You should hire a driver…or walk if you forgot how to apparate."

Pulling to a stop, he got out, slamming the door and walked around to the passenger's side as Hermione tried to slide under the wheel, climbing inelegantly over the gearshift and dropping into the driver's seat.

"I am meeting with the Muggle parents of our new students." He sat stiffly, tugging on the cuffs of his suit jacket, looking more uncomfortable by the second as he watched her skirt ride up and expose her thighs in her efforts to adjust the seat.

"Whose idea was this?" Hermione snorted out a bark of laugher. "Filch could have done better. Bloody hell, Mrs. Norris could have done better. When was the last time you drove?"

"Nothing has changed, I am sure."

"Other than the roads, traffic…at least you could have rented an automatic. What is it with men and sticks? Do you think shifting makes you more virile? And since when do you have to drive to see them?"

"I have a Muggle background and since many students live in urban areas the chance of detection is much smaller if I drive. Things have changed greatly in this world since your own parents were notified. I will have you know…"

"Muggle…ancient Muggle background…how long have you been out of this world? And how could your diving not attract attention? Bloody hell, you've been in one accident already."

"Miss Granger, if you expect me to accommodate you I will insist upon your silence. Furthermore, and I will only say this one more time, if you remember correctly it was _not my fault_."

"Back to my original question," she said, not missing a beat. "You died."

"I was gravely injured. I am surprised you do not remember."

"Remember?"

"It was I that found you and bought you back to…"

"Oh, you know…I thought most of that was a dream. They only told me that…you know…that I had been away a while. I take it you are still at Hogwarts. Who else is still there?" She quickly changed the topic, keeping her eyes on the road or the mirrors, avoiding looking directly at him.

She drove to the solicitors, exchanging small banter with Snape and explaining that for the past few years she had been in school, mostly out of the country, only recently having come home when her mother had died.

"You look well," Snape said to fill in the silence that had descended on them.

"As do you, I must say you look better than I remember." She swallowed hard and tried to cover what she had insinuated hearing his snort. "I didn't mean it like that. I only meant…bloody hell, I don't know what I meant. Not as haggard. The lack of stress perhaps. Not older but that must be due to the whole Wizard ageing thing."

"I return the…compliment."

"Compliment? What was wrong with the way I looked? I was in what? Sixth year?" She took her eyes off the road long enough to look at him.

"You were in St. Mungo's."

She turned back to the road, gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white and clenched her jaw. Continuing on, in what was now an uncomfortable silence she finally pulled into the solicitor's lot and killed the engine.

"I can get to the train and back home from here," she said, gathering up her papers again. "You should do the same. Someone is going to get killed…for good this time."

When she finally arrived home that night, she was hungry and exhausted, wanting nothing more than to eat and crawl in bed. Stepping into the entry, she heard the pounding of feet on the stairs and a woman's voice call out from the kitchen.

"Tea's ready. I held it over." Mary came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a flannel. "These things always take longer than they say."

"Sis!" A small boy dressed for bed tugged on her sleeve. "Can I stay up?"

"Have you eaten?"

"Yeah, but there's no school tomorrow. Remember?"

"An hour, no more," she said, sighing as she saw her quiet night slip away.

"So how did it go?" Mary asked, sliding a plate on the table.

"Leaches. How they can charge so much is beyond me. He even charged for the time it took him to read the papers to me. I could have hired a bloody…"

"I tried to tell you," Mary said, holding up her hand to silence Hermione. "I didn't hear you pull up."

"Yeah, well, about that. You have to take the train home." Hermione smiled weakly. "Someone pulled out in front of me."

"Are you okay?" Mary asked, her eyes quickly scanning over Hermione.

"I'm fine. I can't say as much for that money pit."

"How are you going to make it now?"

"The guy that I…that ran into me said he would pay if I didn't turn it into the insurance."

"Even if he pays twice what it is worth you aren't going to find something."

"I know," Hermione sighed, poking her dinner with her fork. "I may need you to tend Hugh again. I have to look around for something closer to the train now and …I am so bloody tired. I just want some good luck for a change."

"Sure," Mary said, lifting her jacket from a hook near the back door. "Let me know in advance next time."

Hermione rested her head in her hand as she slowly chewed, wondering how Mary had managed to turn good piece of meat into such a dry unpalatable mess.

"Sis?" Hugh said softly from the doorway. "I'm hungry."

"I can't eat it either," Hermione sighed. "What do you want?"

"Biscuits and hot chocolate?"

"Soup you said?"

"Yeah," he muttered sitting down at the table. "Mum let me have hot chocolate before I went to bed."

"Bet you ate your dinner first."

Hugh shrugged and sat quietly, watching her open the tin and start heating the soup. "When do we get to go shopping?"

"We have all summer. Your letter hasn't come yet, and we need the list of supplies."

"We could look."

"When it is time, now eat."

"Mum said you went too."

"That was a long time ago. Things change and I'm not going to buy you things that may not be on your list."

"I'll need a wand. We could get that."

"When it is time," she said sharply.

"What happened to yours?"

Hermione shrugged and started to sort out the kitchen, avoiding looking at him. "As I said, it was a long time ago. I don't really remember. I've moved so much I may have lost it along the way."

"Harry could take me."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Not this summer, the one before. Before Dad died. They had a row and he hasn't been back."

"Do you know what it was about?" Hermione stopped what she was doing, waiting for him to answer.

"No, but Dad's face got all purple and Mum told Harry to leave."

"I'll take you, only you wait for the letter," she said, sitting down opposite him. "I've got bad news about the car."

"She break down again?"

"You could say that." She tried to grin but knew she fell short. "Let's just say I have to find an apartment closer to the train."

"Not the one we wanted?"

"Too far. It was only a twenty-minute drive to work but to take the train it would take over an hour each way. Don't worry, we'll find something else."

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Is Brian coming over tonight?"

Hermione shook her head and worried her lip. She had never been sure how Hugh felt about Brian, and now that they were no longer seeing each other, she hoped he had not formed an attachment. It was hard to tell, having only been home a few short months she was still struggling to understand him. Everyday it seemed something else came up that she was unprepared for, and she could not find any answers in the many books she had read on raising children and helping them cope with loss

"I told him that we were moving and it will make it nearly impossible to keep in touch."

"He dumped you?" Hugh looked up grinning.

"That to," she muttered, not surprised at his quick assessment.

"I didn't l like him," Hugh said, happily slurping his soup with much more gusto.

"Thanks," she sighed, standing up to make his hot chocolate. "You never said anything about him before."

"Yeah, well…he used to look at your…never mind."

"My what?" She turned and levelled him with a look she had learned worked well.

"Your…you know." He waved a hand in front of his chest and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh," she said, reddening. "I guess that isn't a problem anymore."

"What happened to the guy before him? I only saw him once."

Hermione clenched her jaw and slammed a pan on the cooker. . "Thanks. Just what I need today. Could you drop it?"

"What'd I say? It ain't my fault you scare 'em off. Mum used to say it was cuz you were smarter than they were."

"Mum talked about…let it go kid. If you are trying to cheer me up it's not working."

"Yeah. Mary and Mum would try to get you to meet someone they knew. Dad once said it was because of your accident but someday you would meet someone who didn't care. What shouldn't someone care about? An old accident don't matter none. I fell down the stairs and …"

"That's enough," she cut him off, sliding a glass of milk in front of him. "Drink this up, I'll make the hot chocolate tomorrow, and get to bed. We have a long day ahead of us."

Hermione waited until he had climbed the stairs and shut his bedroom door before she enjoyed the luxury of sitting in a hot bath. Trying to keep her mind from returning to Brian, she made a mental list of what she would pack and what she would let go, only to find he kept creeping back into her thoughts. She had met him the first day she had returned to England, literally running into him with her trolley as she went through customs. He had later slid into the seat next to her on the ride to London. Not only had they kept in touch, it had been Brian that helped with the many legal issues she'd had to face. He'd listened as she had poured out her grief of loosing her parents and helped her face the fear of raising a child. Then, one night he was gone.

She again heard his voice telling her he would call as he closed the taxi door, and she remembered seeing in his face that he was lying. Raising her hand to wave goodbye she had smiled at him, playing her part, knowing she would not see him again and feeling pain clutch at her chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**Hermione's Son**

**Hermione's Story: February 1999**

* * *

"You are Mr. Severus Snape?" Dr. Gordon reached out his hand in greeting. "I am so glad you got the message. We are rather at a loss here."

"I have been out of the country and have just returned. " He shook Dr. Gordon's hand and sat in the chair the doctor had indicated with a wave. "I do not live in Spinners End any longer and just happened to be there and learn that you had sent a post."

"Several months ago. I must say, we had given up hopes of identifying her. I do hope this is not a waste of your time."

"I will be glad to help," Snape said flatly. "However, I know very few in England any longer, and fewer still from London."

"Nothing adds up with this patient. I am hoping you could shed some light on her. To be honest we have been going through the phone directories. You are not the first to come."

"It is not an uncommon sire name," he commented politely.

"As the letter explained, none of the names she speaks of, well… speaks _to_ is more accurate as she does not speak to any of us, but none of the names have as of yet panned out. Only yours and we are not even sure if it is you that she sees."

"I take it that what you need is merely an identification of the patient?"

"Yes, and if possible offer some insight into her medical history if you are aware of it. We are not completely sure if her mental condition is the result of obvious trauma she has been through or if she is predisposed to this sort of thing. Without a medical history, it is impossible to decide on the correct treatment. If it turns out that you do know her, we will contact her family. As I said, she does not communicate."

"Is she close?" Snape said, wanting to hurry this along before he needed his next pain potion.

"Yes, yes, just upstairs. I am sorry to take your time. Someone close to her would better monitor the type of care she needs. That's one reason we want to find her family. We are not set up for full time care. Sometimes they respond to loved ones where everything else fails. If not, she will be moved to a government run facility that can deal with her. I must say, we are not even sure she is British. What little we have made out is not enough for any of us to discern her accent. All we know for sure is that her tox screen was negative…rather a surprise I must say. Generally, young girls of this age that live on the streets use rather freely."

Snape stood stiffly. "I am not a well man. I myself have been on bed rest for the past few months. If we could hurry this along I shall like to return home as soon as possible."

"Yes, please, follow me." Dr. Gordon opened the door and stepped aside to allow Snape to exit first. "She calls you Professor, or rather refers to a Professor Snape. The night nurse recognised the name. We had a hard time making it out. Is it possible she was a student?"

"My students come from very sheltered and somewhat reclusive families. I would be indeed surprised if one has gone unidentified for this long that I was not aware of."

Severus followed the doctor through the institutes green tiled hallways, assaulted by the smell of disinfectants and urine. Crinkling his nose, he wanted nothing more than to pull his wand and clean the air and to cast silencing spells against the cold metallic sound of luncheon trays and clicking carts. He had his own memories of Muggle hospitals that he would rather forget. Now, they crashed down on him, bringing long forgotten scenes to his mind. His father as he laid dead and cold after suffering a massive heart attack, his mother as she had looked hooked up to feeding tubes and intravenous needles that had only kept her alive long enough to suffer more pain.

He considered his hatred for these places as he followed the doctor, thrown back in time and the memory of following other doctors down similar hallways. He had followed almost gladly to his father's deathbed, needing to reassure himself that the man was gone at last. The man with the large beefy hands that had made his and his mother's life a living hell, had lain covered by a pristine sheet, as if in death his sins had been absolved. Severus had resisted the impulse to spit on the unmoving face as he had taken his mother by the arm and lead her away.

"In here." Dr. Gordon opened a door and waited for Severus to walk in before joining him.

He did not need to wait for the light switch to be turned on, although the doctor did so as he entered behind him. He did not need to see the patient's face to know to whom the crop of bushy hair belonged and he did not need to read her medical chart to know that she was not as he remembered her.

"Miss Granger?"

Her eyes fluttered open at the memory of his voice, and found his dark eyes inches from her own. Reaching out with her right hand, she touched his face and smiled.

"Can I come with you?"

"Miss Granger, you are…"

"You are dead, are you not?"

"No, Miss Granger, despite what you …" he was cut off by the sound of a baby's mewing cry, and turning he saw that in the room lay a tiny new born. He spun back to see Hermione had closed her eyes and retreated inside her mind.

"It would be best if we left," Dr. Gordon said quietly. "She becomes agitated on occasion. We are trying to wean her off sedatives. She reacted quite strangely to her labour. As soon as she delivered we thought it best to keep her calm, but now she seems to have retreated even further."

"She … she is a niece…a friend's niece." Severus thought furiously of what he had heard, but could recall nothing more than the fact she had left after the final conflict. "The child…surely the father has been contacted."

"She pays no attention to it. As far as the father is concerned we have no idea who he is. We had hoped that having him in the same room might trigger some … memory, some need on her part to hold him, to interact with the world. The midwife seemed to have the idea that her maternal instinct would take over. However, as I said, since his birth she seems even more distant. Mr. Snape, I am not even sure she is fully aware of not only where she is, but also the fact that she has given birth. As I said when she was in labour, she reacted quite violently. We had to restrain her. She kept screaming that we were torturing her and something about chains and dungeons."

"How long has she been here?" Severus kept his face a mask, showing nothing that could be construed as an understanding what she had referred to.

The doctor flipped open her file and quickly scanned the information. "Intake was back in June, late June...the…25th. She collapsed on the streets and was brought in to emergency then transferred to psychiatric. The records indicate she had tried to take care of a rather serious injury herself and the resulting infection was out of control."

"What type of injury?" Snape stood with his arms folded staring down at her, unable to fathom how she had been able to get from Hogwarts to London unattended in this condition.

Everything he knew of the aftermath of the war he had heard only from second hand stories. As a spy, Severus had learned never to trust what he had not observed with his own eyes. Memories were convenient and all too often twisted and skewed to make the teller more than he was. What Severus had seen was only the darkness of near death.

He had been spirited away by the son of his childhood friend. Draco Malfoy, after overhearing Harry speak of the horror of seeing Nagini rip out the professor's throat, had been the only one to rush to his aid. Aid, that if it had come only moments later, he would not have needed. Now he stood looking down at the bed, wondering if she was beyond help or if she wasn't, would she want to survive.

"She wouldn't or couldn't tell us of its source, but a nasty infection had necrotized the surrounding area. We had to remove a great deal of tissue. Her left breast is still seeing the scar tissue seep on occasion. Nasty infection that we cannot get a handle on. We thought she would lose the baby but it managed to hold on. Quite lucky in that."

"Miss Granger… was indeed a student of mine, "," Severus said coldly, making a fast decision. "I will contact the family and suggest she be moved closer to their home. I am afraid the distance to London would make it difficult for them to visit her here."

"I am afraid that we need to notify the father before we release the baby. That is of course if there was a marriage. You did say _Miss _Granger. Is there any chance that may have changed? If there is no legal claim we could release him to whoever takes over the responsibility for…Miss Granger you said"

"Yes, Miss …Victoria Granger," he muttered, aware that with her first name he could trace her back to a Muggle birth record. "As I said, I have been out of the county and have had little contact with the family. However, I have no knowledge of a husband nor am I aware of any…predisposition to her behaviour."

Severus stalked back into her room and walked over to the crib. Unable to detect any family resemblance to Ronald Weasley or Harry Potter, he turned back to look at Hermione. "Her…boyfriend was killed in an accident last May. It is possible that this is his. However, without proper tests I am unable to say, nor, I am sure, would you accept a guess."

"That would put the time about right," the doctor mused. "The baby was early…yes, yes May would fit."

"I will tell her family they will need their personal physician to run the tests. However, asking the potential father's parents to come here is not advisable. They lost two sons the same day."

"Is it possible that she was in the same accident? Perhaps going through a windscreen of an old auto or something else equally as sharp would explain her injuries."

"Again, I am at a loss," he said quietly. "May I take a moment with her?"

"Of course," Dr. Gordon nodded. "Take your time. Although don't be disappointed if she doesn't respond."

Severus waited until the doctor disappeared down the hallway before going back into Hermione's room. Pulling a chair close to the bed, he sat, leaned forward and tipped her head until he could see her face.

"Miss Granger, you need to listen to me." He saw her eyes flutter open again and meet his, holding a blank stare with no recognition this time. Smirking, as she responded to his voice then close her eyes to shut him out, he leaned closer to command her attention. "Miss Granger, please focus."

He sighed and glanced at the door then laid his forehead against hers and whispered "_Legilimens_."

He was confused, lost, unable to find her memories only the sound of waves, the smell of honey and a gentle push, as if she wanted him away but did not want to use force. He turned and walked along a green tiled hallway only to find all the doors on either side locked. Seeing a red sign flashing the word _exit,_ he smirked and turned the opposite way, aware that she knew he was present and wanted him gone. Suddenly, a blast of magic so strong it took his breath away, hit him full force as it pushed him out of her mind, throwing him to the floor next to her bed.

"Fuck," he muttered, as he painfully pulled himself back up to the chair seeing that she had not moved. "You are not going to get rid of me that easily, Miss Granger. I fought too hard to save our world to have you throw it away. We need to move you somewhere to insure your secrecy and you will cooperate. "

Stalking back to the bed he pushed her off her side and onto her back, pulled her hospital gown away from the throat and looked inside to see the injury. He recognized the scars of the _Sectumsempra _atonce. Clenching his jaw, knowing what she must have gone through and was still going through as the pain would not diminish until there was a complete magical healing.

"Idiot," he hissed, pulling up her gown and walking to the window. He looked out at the lawns while he fought to steady his breathing and wondered how this could have gone unnoticed at the battle. _Surely_, he thought, _Poppy would have recognized it and stopped her from leaving_. He thought of Potter and wondered what had been so important after finding his best friend's body that he did not seek out the witch. He turned back to the bed and could only assume she had left in a fit of grief and pain, unable to think clearly and unable to meet the future without Weasley.

"Mr. Snape?" The doctor returned and opened the door softly. "Oh, good…so glad I caught you. Where did you say her family is?"

"Scotland."

"Fine, I will provide a list of suitable private hospitals. I only know of two off hand. I will see she is ready. You have come quite a distance. Perhaps Friday?"

"No, not at all. I will be able to acquire what I need locally. Shall we say tomorrow at ten?"

"Until tomorrow morning then," Dr. Gordon said, looking at his watch. "I have an appointment I am afraid. If you care to stay with your niece you may…"

"No, I have much to do," Snape said crisply as he turned and walked away.

He returned to Hogwarts and sought out Minerva who had taken on the position of acting Headmistress until a suitable replacement was appointed. She greeted him stiffly, nodding politely when he asked to talk to her, directing him to the chair opposite her desk and ordering a tea service from the kitchen.

"That is quite unnecessary," he quipped.

"It is late and I have not eaten, you will join me," she ordered, waving to the elf to put the tray on the desk. "I am sorry it is not more but the kitchen is still under repair. We no longer are free to order at any time we want so I am afraid it will be cold sandwiches. Now, what do you want?"

"I have just come from London. It seems one of your former students is in desperate need. She is being held in a government run mental ward."

Minerva leaned back in her chair and studied Severus. "Why are you not contacting her parents?"

"As far as I know they are still in Australia."

"Hermione? Hermione Granger?" she gasped.

"From what I understand they have searched for those she has mentioned. However, since I am the only one that still owns property in the Muggle world, I was the one they managed to reach. Upon returning to Spinners End, I found they had sent a post several months ago."

"You have seen her?"

"Yes, I was not sure of her identity before, but I can assure you it is Miss Granger. Her mental state is …uncertain. She does not seem to be in the present, nor recognizes what is around her. However, she is still under the effects of a _Sectumsempra. M_y guess would be she was either drugged to the point she cannot think, which is unlikely since she was pregnant, or that the pain makes her escape reality. She did respond to my voice, and recognised me so it is possible her doctors have misjudged her condition...that or she is truly locked in some horror of the past."

"That poor child," Minerva shook her head.

"She has also given birth recently."

"Surely the father is with her."

"He is not, nor do they know who he is. The spells that I know to determine parentage require the presence of the father or close family member and as such, I was unable to cast them. However, St. Mungo's will have other methods available. Other than Potter and Weasley I have no idea of whom else to check."

"Nor do I. if it is not one of those two…" she murmured.

"She needs to be transferred to this world."

"Surely you do not expect me to bring her here," Minerva scowled. "Not only is school in session but this is no place for her if she is as you say."

"She needs to be taken to St. Mungo's, and since I am no longer welcomed there, I will leave it in your hands. I have already informed her Doctor that she is a _friend's niece_. I am sure if the child turns out to be a Weasley she and the child will be enthroned at The Burrow and worshiped as a deity, which will free you and Hogwarts of any responsibility."

"Potter is training in the Ministry, I will contact him," she said hesitantly. "Perhaps he can do something about her parents. I had assumed she had gone to bring them home as did Potter."

"Perhaps," he sighed. "I am sorry Minerva. However, I was brought into this much as you have been. I only worry that in her present state any improvement she makes may uncover the fact that for seven years she was a practicing witch. "

Minerva picked up a quill and wrote a note to Harry, telling him she needed to speak to him at once and gave it to Snape, asking him to make a trip to the owlery before he left. After discussing possibilities, it was decided that Hermione would stay in St. Mungo's with the baby until Potter could find her parents and reverse the memory spell Hermione had placed on them. In the meantime, Minerva would be the person on record with the hospital and assume responsibility until Hermione and the baby could be sent home.

"Severus," she said as he turned to leave. "I am still working to have you reinstated to your full position. Give it time. At least they were open to returning you to potions."

"It is all I had hoped for, Minerva." He nodded stiffly, not wanting to get into their ongoing conversation of dwindling staff and budgets.

"That may be. However, until they find a new Headmaster I am stuck here and I would very much like to retire. Do try to be polite if they contact you," she sighed. "It is not just your future you tend to destroy with your….pride. Others are also being held in limbo."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Two weeks after the untimely death of her auto, Hermione dragged Hugh to the train for another trip north. She had a list of three more places within walking distance of where she was soon to start work and hoped that one of these would be sufficient.

The first she refused to walk into. Clutching the paper and rereading the advert, she had snorted at the description of the neighbourhood as quaint. _Quaint_, she seethed, seeing the adult book shop and massage parlour across the street. The thought of Hugh going for a walk or playing outside brought her to the edge of anger. She saw the smirk on his face and slapped the back of his head before dragging him back up the pavement to find the next on the list.

The second place she had taken him looked more promising. There was a park not far and it was only a short walk to shops and a cinema. They walked through the empty apartment while the landlady recited a list of rules, ending with the fact that whereas children were permitted she did not plan to hear them. She handed Hermione a list of things that she would not tolerate. Most were not a concern to her but the items such as what colour curtains to hang and visitors were to use the bell and not knock were too much.

"I'll be in school," Hugh had said meekly only to receive a cold look from the old lady. "Boarding school. Really…I don't make noise."

"Three's the charm," Hermione had said, pulling him along to number three. "I won't have you tiptoeing around during the hols and summer."

"I can take my shoes off in the house and won't turn up the radio. I really don't make noise. I told her that."

"Of course not," she muttered, comparing the address in the paper with the one on the old brick façade in front of her. "Was that the neighbour's telle I heard last night? No? I see…it must have been from outside because _you _don't make noise."

"It wasn't loud." Hugh pouted, lowering his head.

"It's a basement apartment and I don't see any windows." Hermione said staring at the building.

"You said it was a…"

"I know, I lived in one once, but it had widows…they were so high you couldn't see out…but at least there was light."

"It may not…"

"No," she sighed, shoving the paper in her handbag. "I'll keep looking, that or look for a new job."

"Sorry," Hugh said, toeing the ground.

"Hey, kid," she squatted down in front of him, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. I told you I'd take care of you."

"When Dad died Mum said Mary…"

"Yeah, well you got me." She stood up and started back to the train station.

"But she said you were busy and…"

"She never signed the papers and even if she had I would have fought it." She said firmly, watching him from the corner of her eye. "We're family."

She saw his grin and felt his hand take hers as they walked along. Knowing not to make a show of his sudden affection because like all boys that age he would pull away, she just gave his hand a gentle squeeze as they walked along. An hour later they were (at) home sitting in the kitchen. Hugh was eating a sandwich as Hermione crossed off more listings in the paper, when a small barn owl tapped on the window.

"My letter!" Hugh rushed to open the sash. "What do I do now?"

Hermione chuckled as she showed him how to untie the missive and told him that it was traditional that he now give the bird a treat. Holding the letter as he ran off to the pantry she examined the envelope seeing her name and not his.

"Sorry kid," she said, ripping open the letter. "It's from the guy that wrecked Betsy. It says he's stopping in later to pay for her."

"You said I could sleep over at Nick's house."

"You can still go," she said absently, still reading the letter. "What time? He won't be here until…seven it says. He's going to be one of your professors. It would be nice if you could meet him."

"Mrs. Nelson said six. She promised to take us to the cinema."

"Which one?" Hermione looked at him scowling. "I don't want you seeing any of those awful chop and slash things. And I don't think…"

"_With_ _Mrs. Nelson taking us_?" He rolled his eyes. "She's worse than you. She even asks her parson before Nick can see one."

"Yeah, well…I don't think that's something to brag about. If she has to be told what her own …" she stopped seeing the look of confusion on his face. "I guess it'll be okay. You just…just don't go if it's something you know you shouldn't see."

Even as she warned him, she knew how foolish she sounded. She would no more have refused the chance to see something her parents forbade than she knew he would. Hoping that Mrs. Nelson's parson had more sense than she did, Hermione relented and handed him enough spending money to keep him quiet for two hours. Using the time after Hugh left to throw in a load of laundry and start packing the kitchen, she sorted what she needed to keep into a crate while making a pile that she would give to St. Paul's charity cupboard. Hearing a knock on the door, she opened it and waved Snape inside.

"Mind if we do this in the kitchen?" She called back over her shoulder as she walked to the back of the house.

"It will only take a moment," he mumbled as she disappeared from his sight. "I was hoping to…"

"Did you drive here?" she called out to him.

"No, you have a yard that is conducive to quiet apparation. Miss Granger, this will only take a moment." He strode to the kitchen intending to demand she pay attention only to hear her voice chatter on.

"Good. That you didn't drive I mean. So there are no dead bodies at the curb?" she yelled out to him. "Sorry to run off. I was in the middle of making a pot of tea and you know what happens if the water over heats. Have a cuppa? I have an ulterior motive though. I can't reach the top shelf. Even on the chair I can't get the stuff in the back."

She finished making the tea as he emptied the last of the top cupboard, washing his hands in the sink when he was done.

"Sorry about that. I should have warned you. Mum always shoved holiday plates up there and then forgot about them. Every year she bought more." She laughed nodding to the stack of Christmas candy dishes on the counter.

"I spoke to Minerva. She was equally surprised to hear of your loss."

"I would have thought she would be at her cottage all happy and retired by now. She had one…didn't she? I seem to remember her speaking of one…perhaps not. Anyway, I remember her saying when she retired she would live in a cottage by the sea. It always stuck me as sort of a storybook dream."

"Miss Granger, if I could have a moment of your time…"

"I didn't have time to notify anyone with Dad. I wasn't home, and by the time I got home, it was over. We didn't even have a service, just at the crematorium. Dad didn't want one and when Mum went…I just…I did the same for her. Please explain it to Minerva? I don't want her to think I slighted her."

"Understandable," he muttered, remembering her penchant to talk uncontrollably until she had her say.

"I have something I want to show you. I just can't remember where it is now." She looked around the kitchen, biting her lip. "Drink some tea while I find it."

"I have something that may make your search easier," Snape said, taking her wand out of his pocket and holding it out to her. "Minerva has held it in her safe keeping."

Hermione stared at her wand. Lifting her eyes to Snape's she shook her head and took a step back. "I don't need it anymore."

"Pack it away. Perhaps in the future you will…"

"Where did she get it?" Hermione snapped. "No one said anything about it being found. They should have told me. It was mine. They had no right to hide the fact that they found it."

Snape laid the wand on the table, sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. "I never understood how your wand managed to get under Mr. Weasley unless you dropped it in a battle."

"Who told you that? If I dropped it in battle I wouldn't be standing here."

"It is the…"

"I had lost it before, when I fell. He must have found it and…he had it with him. I am surprised you of all people listen to gossip and rumours as to what happened to him."

Severus studied her face and found he could no longer discern her mood, as he had been able to when she had been a student. Whereas once her endless talking was an irritation and designed to impress her knowledge on him, now she was clearly avoiding the topic and being elusive. That and overly nervous in his presence. Her nervousness only fuelled his curiosity. Stretching out his long legs in an attempt to look at ease and casual, he smirked at her.

"It seems to be one of Potter's great-unanswered mysteries. On each anniversary of the battle he brings it up again and convinces the Prophet to run another story in hopes of finding a witness."

"I…I don't know." She sat down heavily in the chair opposite him. "I don't remember it…not really. I remember talking to Harry about losing my wand. I remember that everything was…it sounds strange…but everything was red. The Healers said it was the pain…that and the candle light…and the fires in all the hallways. I just know that everything was hazy…like…looking though a thick piece of smoky red glass. I couldn't see…couldn't think…I still can't remember what happened."

"So you ran."

"I don't know." She whispered. "Next thing I was in St. Mungo's. Everything before that is…disjointed. Wrong…like in a dream that runs backwards. I remember Lavender…and Greyback then nothing makes sense. Like you. I remember you being dead and coming into my mind. I remember sleeping outside and being hungry but not where or when."

"Nothing more?"

"No," she said, sighing deeply. "Nothing. Oh, of course I remember the noise. The falling stones, the rumble as a wall fell or…I remember the smell but not what caused it all. I think the smells are the worst…and the sounds. The rest…I can sort of control…but not them. Not them."

"I am surprised you do not seek answers to the questions you must have." Snape looked at her quizzically over the rim of his cup.

"I spent a long time in counselling looking for those answers. By the time I was ready to leave the hospital for good, Hugh was almost three. Oh, I had an apartment for a while but things got bad and I went back…that happened twice. When I was finally done with it, I went to school. I didn't have any Muggle education…not enough to get into the uni or get a job. Between the hospital and that, I didn't have time to worry about what had happened. I was too worried about the future."

"And Hugo?" He watched her closely and noticed how she held her cup as if she was afraid it was slipping away, the way she met his eyes as if trying to convince him of her honesty and the way she hunched her shoulders forward as if trying to disappear into the chair.

"The Healer was quite adamant that I understood who he was," she said stiffly. "We spent a lot of time talking about the war and what had happened. Like you being alive and being the one to bring me in. You mucked up my healing I'll have you know."

"I …"

"I thought you were dead… I had…or thought I had a vision of you in my mind…that I had died and you came to show me the way. I just remember I wanted to go with you…to be dead and have it all over. Then I find out you were alive. I thought the Healers were lying to me for a long time. You know, making things up just to see my reaction. After all, I had seen what happened in the Shrieking Shack," She laughed at the look on his face. "It sounds kind of paranoid when I look back on it, but at the time I believed it and blamed you."

Frankly, I think I believed it right up to the time you…I wrecked the car. If you were alive, I couldn't understand why you had come to find me. I couldn't understand that you wanted to help me I guess…but you being dead…it made it seem…better somehow. Not that you were dead…but that if I could go with you I would at least know someone and not be so all alone anymore."

"You finished your education?" Snape asked politely, glancing at the clock over the sink as he guided the conversation off his plight.

"Yes. I was finishing my internship when I had to come home and take of Hugh. Not that I mind, I don't, but…well…here I am. It is rather a boring story. The short of it is I was ill, now I am doing fine."

"Your son's name is on the incoming list for this year. He should be receiving his letter soon. Perhaps you will have enough free time to finish your studies."

"He is my brother. Hugo, I hate that name," she leaned back in her chair and looked at him evenly. "My parents adopted him and named him after my father. Please, don't slip up. He doesn't know."

"His father?"

"I'll make you a deal," she said with a smirk. "I won't ask about your sex life and you don't ask me about mine."

"Agreed," he said, feeling his lip twitch as he noticed her visibly relax.

"So, let's do this so you can get out of here. I am sure you have better things to do then listening to me ramble on. I must say however, it is nice to have an adult to talk to. It's been months."

"I have taken the liberty of paying you in galleons. The exchange rate is abysmal. However, since you will need them for Diagon I thought it prudent." He set a small bag on the table, seeing her look away.

"I've been thinking…it was only worth two hundred, so you can take most of that back."

"It only _has _the equivalency of two hundred pounds. Miss Granger, I have been away for this world for a long time. However, I do know the value of that thing you drove. I must say I am pleased with your honesty."

"Yeah," she grinned, pushing the bag back toward him. "I checked the insurance policy. It expired. So…take it all back."

"You have let me waste my time?" he said flatly.

"No…yes?" She laughed and refilled his cup. "Sorry, I wanted to talk about Hugh. He needs to purchase his supplies."

Snape watched her drink her tea, waiting for her to finish her statement.

"Yes?"

"It's up stairs." She stood and started out of the room, calling over her shoulder, suddenly changing the topic. "I remember now, I was packing some books and put it in there so I wouldn't forget it."

She returned and shoved a folder in his hand. "I still have problems with my memory. Only the short term…it seems better every day. It is only when I am tired I seem to forget things and to be honest I only talk like a jabbering idiot when I'm nervous. So you make me nervous…go figure."

"I see." He opened the file and looked at her incredulously. "You wanted to give me directions for melting chocolate?"

"No, git…under that. I hid it in one of the cook books," she giggled. "That's what gave me the idea. In third year, we made a healing potion, for allergies. A simple potion that didn't even use magic. One that everyone should have received an Outstanding for brewing. You even said …"

"That any dunderhead could do it."

"Well…they can't and I know why. It's in the cooling. When the flame is turned off…it cools too quickly. If the flame is turned down…it keeps simmering. If you put it in a hot water bath, like it shows to melt chocolate it will slow down the cooling just enough."

Snape flipped the pages over, scanning her work and reading the results of her experiments. He quickly ran his fingers down a chart showing the temperature of the hot water bath and the time it would take to cool a hot cauldron.

"The only reason some of the class had acceptable potions was due to the thickness of the cauldron walls. All of them were just a little different. Perhaps bought from different suppliers," she said, leaning over the table to read the charts upside down. "What do you think? It's simple really."

"You have been brewing?"

"I did. Hugh had a horrible allergy to something in his room. He woke up every morning with all the classic symptoms. "

"I would like to take this with me," Snape muttered, still reading her work, impressed with the detailed calculations she had included to account for the difference in cauldrons.

"There is more."

"No doubt," he smirked.

"Have you ever tempered eggs? No? Well, to add an egg to a hot mixture will only cook the egg. So, you add a little of the hot mixture to the egg, bringing up its temperature before adding it. See?"

He lifted his head to hers, finding her face inches from his own. "No."

She sat back in her chair, flushing slightly. "I think it would help when adding liquid ingredients. I think if you…temper them…before pouring them in…it may…in some cases help. Not all, but any liquid that has protein…such as blood that you don't want to congeal like the eggs."

"I see." He snapped the file closed . "An interesting idea. However, many of the ingredients must be added at precise temperatures."

"But not all. Anyway, you may have wondered at the cooking references." She laughed at the look on his face as he tried to politely say he had not. "It was the Healer's idea really. He thought it would help me get back into the Muggle life style while relearning how to retain information. Mum enrolled me in a coking class. It worked for all of a month, and then I started to get ideas like this. But it was easy, and within walking distance of the hospital. That was the first apartment I tried. I must say, after a year of that I can cook a decent meal…as well as brew the non-magical concoctions."

"None of the potions you have identified use oils," Snape said slowly, drumming his fingers on the tabletop; already back to what she had proposed.

They sat and began discussing potions, Hermione making a list of which potions she thought he should try, he making a list of the common liquid ingredients in each. Neither paid attention to the time and it was not until Hermione stood to make yet another pot of tea that she noticed the sky turning light.

"Do you want breakfast?"

"No, why…" His head snapped up and he saw her looking out of the window.

"It would only take a…"

"Miss Ganger," he said, standing stiffly and smoothed his trousers. "I have sorely over stayed my welcome. I had no idea it had grown so late."

"Not at all and it's not late…not anymore, it is rather early," she said laughing at his obvious discomfort. "As I said, it's not often I have an adult to talk to. I've…I have rather enjoyed it."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he said, starting for the door with six of her notebooks tucked under his arm. "You may tell young Mr. Granger that I shall take him to Diagon."

"Thank you, Sn…may I call you Severus?" She saw his stiff nod and choked back her laughter. "Thank you, Severus. I'll explain to him to be on his best behaviour."

"If you move after the letter comes you will need to advise me. Until that time we will be magically advised as to Mr. Granger's whereabouts."

"Oh, that." She glanced at the half packed boxes stacked in the sitting room. "I am having problems finding a place so I should be here for the next…two weeks."

"You do not mean to find a place and move within two weeks?"

"I had thirty days from the day I signed the papers…so yeah, thirteen days to go."

.

.

Once back at Hogwarts Snape sought out Minerva. He found her in the Greenhouses with Professor Longbottom, sitting at a small folding table that had been set up in the midst of the greenery.

"Severus." She waved him over and transfigured a third chair. "I was just going over the new student list with Neville."

"Is this Granger a relative of Hermione?" Neville asked.

"Her brother," Severus said, looking at Minerva pointedly. "His parents have recently passed, a fact his new head of house should be made aware of as soon as the sorting is complete."

"Poor Hermione." Neville resumed eating breakfast, stopping to pour himself a fresh cup of tea. "Harry only said she had decided to stay in the Muggle world and didn't want any contact with us until she was ready. I guess it's time."

"It appears so," Snape quipped, remembering her chagrin at seeing her old wand and then her insistence that they should have returned it to her at once. "I do, however, believe she is still unsure as to her participation in this world."

"She could have at least notified us of her parent's demise," Minerva said tersely. "After all…"

Snape cleared his throat and reached for the teapot. "She is reluctant to enter Diagon. I have offered to take the lad for his robes."

Minerva raised an eyebrow in surprise as Neville stopped eating, his fork halfway between his mouth and his plate.

"She has accepted a job at the Harrington Institute," Snape said evenly, levelling Neville with a cold look. "If I remember correctly it is a research and development company that specializes in developing new vaccines."

"She should be good at that and it will put her closer to the school. If she insists on not using magic it will make it easier for her to travel here."

"She has also recently lost her transportation," Snape almost whined as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "She is looking for a new place within walking distance to the train so it may be a while before you see her."

"Harrington you said?" Minerva mused. "I am surprised you did not think to offer her Spinner's end."

"You were just complaining about the upkeep." Neville grinned, seeing Snapes pained expression. "With someone in it the pipes won't freeze again."

"They did not before," Snape said defensively. "It was the…water pressure."

"The pressure of this great fool beating on them when the water was shut off all the time," Minerva told Neville.

"She's right." Neville tried not to grin but lost the battle until Snape turned to him. "How bad could it be? Hermione would at least have the heat on and do the general upkeep. If I know her at all she will have the place in better condition than it is now."

"No." Snape stood and looked down at the pair. "Not only is the house not set up for Muggle life, she refuses to use magic."

"You lived there," Neville said, glad to see Snape wince. "It just needs some updates. Hermione could do that for you. She'll use her magic when she has a need."

"I am sure your mother did not live with magic," Minerva chimed in. "By your own admission your father did not allow it. Don't try to convince me the house is _not up to Muggle standards. _You are convincing only yourself_. _A little paint and a few patches and it will be just fine."

Snape stood and scowled and them both before leaving the greenhouse, hearing Minerva's laughter and Neville's chuckles.

_Spinner's End indeed_, he thought. What he didn't need was more restrictions on his time and one more thing to check up on and worry about. The roof leaks, he remembered suddenly, as does the window in the sitting room and the cellar floods during heavy rains. The electricity had been shut off for so long he did not know if the wiring was sound and the neighbours would be curious and come pounding on her door expecting introductions and welcoming the new tenant.

.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

* * *

**Hermione's Son**

**November 1999**

* * *

Mrs. Granger had sat every day for the past three weeks in her daughter's room. Each morning she had combed Hermione's unruly hair and chatted about the day before, as if the memory would make her daughter want to take part in the conversation, and each day she saw Hermione slip further and further away.

Ever since that Harry Potter boy had collected her and her husband, and tried to explain the last two years away, Jean had an uneasy feeling that it was not as simple as he tried to make it sound, if intrigue and war could ever be simple. She pulled back Hermione's hair, securing it with a comb at each temple and glanced over her shoulder to see the baby waking.

She was not a naïve woman, or one that had overestimated her daughter's control, or more to the point underestimated her daughter's ability to practice safe sex. Birth control had been the topic of a yearly conversation they had carried out since her fifth year of boarding school. Now, Jean watched the baby wiggling under his blanket and wondered what had made Hermione forget everything she had once held so important. She would have known that having a child would end her studies for a time and make it nearly impossible to fulfil her dreams.

Picking up the baby and sitting in the rocker the hospital had provided, she studied Hermione's face and saw she had no recognition of her mother or the child that was in the room.

"Ready?" Hugo poked his head in the room and lifted an eyebrow at his wife.

"No, I want to talk to that doctor again."

"Do you still think it's a good idea? It means starting all over and we aren't getting any younger."

"He'll have a big sister, won't he? Hugh, I can't leave her like this, and look at him…just look at his precious little face."

"And think of the formula, bottles, laundry…sleepless nights and…nappies."

"We won't have to scrimp and save this time…we can afford more for him than Hermione ever had. It won't be as hard." She kissed the baby's forehead, and looked up into Hugh's grey-blue eyes. "His eyes are the same colour as yours."

"Don't start that, they're still changing, although his hair…what little he has…looks like his mother's did at his age." He squatted down in front of his wife and stroked the baby's head. "We're going to have a lot of expenses we didn't have last time. I'm not leaving her to those government idiots…look what they did before they got her here. She needs an education if she's going to make it in our world."

"She has one," her mother whispered, looking at Hermione sadly.

"She's not going to go far with all that magical stuff. What can she do? She learned things like…like…bloody charms and how to make a potion."

"She's a smart girl."

"The smartest," Mr. Granger said, putting his hand on his wife's cheek. "But…she never learned a profession in our world. She isn't even prepared to continue her studies."

"I know," she sighed. "What now?"

"She gets well and then we hire the best to give her what she needs."

"And the money? I want her to have private doctors…and the best education. Even if it means she goes overseas. It will mean renting her a place in the city close to things and…"

"We can make it. We don't get that new furniture you want, and we can find a smaller house."

"If I'm going to stay home and raise another I won't need a new car. One will do us just fine. If we move closer to things we don't even need one," she said hopefully.

"Don't worry about the money…we can make it."

"Hugh? What do you truly think?"

"What? You think I'm going to turn my grandson over to some bloody Ministry of Magic?" he quipped as he started to grin. "Maybe he will keep us young, that's what they always say about change of life babies."

The healers agreed that it would be best if the child went home with the grandparents, but were unsure about the request that they be able to formally adopt the chid as their own. A quick floo to the Ministry brought not only Kingsley, but also Harry and a representative from the Child Welfare Division. They were ushered into a meeting room and grouped around a large oval table, Harry, Kinsley and the representative on one side, the Grangers on the other, and four Healers who took seats at the two ends.

Letting this child out into the Muggle world could create problems, Kingsley advised. Not only was there a chance that the father would still step up and lay claim to him, but to have a known war hero's child adopted by Muggles, even grandparents, would create a breech of the Act of Secrecy and pose a potential problem to the citizens that would see her child as hope for the future.

The representative from Child Welfare seemed to differ, saying it was better to give the child to a relative, using Harry's own background as proof that it was the norm. Furthermore, as he pointed out, the Grangers had already raised one magical child and were well aware of the problems.

"How many know about the baby?" Jean asked, nervously, seeing Kingsley's scowl.

"Only the people in this room and the medical personal who have cared for her," Healer Sullivan assured her. "We were told when she first came in to keep it under wraps and have done so. She has been registered on the admission forms under a different name."

"Harry?"

"No, Mrs. Granger, no one. I…no that's not right, Snape knows and Headmistress McGonagall, but as far as I know that's it."

"Healer Sullivan, do you think Hermione is even aware of what has happened? The first time we spoke, you said the doctor in London did not even think she knew she has given birth. Has she changed?" Mr. Granger said flatly, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"No, there has been no change. Now, that in its self could be a good thing. I may be alone in my assessment here. However, I feel that removing the child may be in her own best interests. Let her come to terms with the injury and the trauma she has gone through. Let her heal. She is trapped in whatever horror she witnessed a year ago, and that is what she needs to deal with. I hate to say this, but she cannot face her fears while being forced to face the present and future at the same time. Mrs. Granger, if you ever want your daughter back it's going to take time, and forcing her into motherhood when she is trapped where she is, is an unwise course of treatment."

"Then it's settled," Mr. Granger said, laying his hand over that of his wife. "He will come home with us."

"I will insist on yearly progress reports," Kingsley said firmly.

"I don't think that will be…"

"Mrs. Granger," Harry interrupted, "I will be more than glad to do it myself. That is if you allow me to visit from time to time. I…I can't do much for Hermione, but I would like to keep in touch."

Mrs. Granger looked at her husband, seeing his slight nod. "I am sure his sister's friend will be welcomed, Harry."

"Once she deals with her problems she should be told the truth." The Healer interrupted. "Until she faces everything, and comes to terms with it, she won't be fully healed."

"There is one further matter to consider," Kingsley said slowly, watching Mrs. Granger closely. "We cannot completely disregard the father."

"I have no doubt that it is that Weasley boy," she said looking at Harry.

"I…I am not sure, Mrs. Granger. I mean, I know Ron…he…if he knew he was going to be a father he would have said something." Harry stammered. "Listen, I don't think it's his. He…he was still building up his nerve to kiss her for Merlin's sake."

"My daughter would not sleep around with…"

"No, I didn't mean that. You have to believe me. If anyone knows what she was like, it would be me. I just…we can do a paternity test. Just to make sure. It may not be completely accurate…but it can at least give us the blood line."

Everyone agreed that the most obvious person to be the child's father would have been Ron. Harry volunteered to talk to Molly, and on the last day of June made the trip to The Burrow. He couldn't help but grin every time he saw the house with its mismatched siding and haphazard design. He occasionally teased Ginny that is was worse now than it had been before they had rebuilt and improved it. However, today he only saw what wasn't here and knew he was on fool's mission. A mission that would only cause more pain and confusion for Molly.

"Harry! For goodness sakes, get in here before tea is cold. We just started." Molly engulfed him in a quick hug before dragging him along to the kitchen.

"Harry!" Arthur grinned and stood up to pump his hand. "Ginny just left for work. You just missed her."

"I don't like her working nights," Harry muttered, sitting at the table.

"Her brother collects her from the floo and walks with her to the shop," Molly explained. "It has been too long since you have come to see us."

Harry told them the story that the Granger's and Healers had agreed on, not wanting Hermione to have visitors until she could handle the situation and wanting to keep the fact that she was in St. Mungo's out of the paper. Telling them only that she had delivered a child and that in her grief she refused to confirm who the father was, he hinted that it might be Ron's child. Arthur's face became unreadable as Molly sat back in her chair, quietly dabbing at her eyes.

"I can do the spell." Harry studied Arthur's face, not certain how to read what he was seeing. "Mr. Weasley? It would mean you have to come to St. Mungo's with me or let me take a vial of blood from you or one of the boys. We can do it now."

"You knew him, Harry. He would have told us," Arthur said softly. "This isn't something he would hide…or not tell us."

"Perhaps he didn't know," Molly cried, putting her hand over Arthur's. "Perhaps she didn't have time to tell him…or didn't know herself at the time. Sometimes with the first, witches don't realize it for a couple of months."

"If it is Ron's and her parents were in Australia…why didn't she come to us? Where did she go? You just said you collected her parents…what happened to her in the mean time?" Arthur asked, sensing something was not right. "I know she hasn't been using magic. I checked the tracing at the Ministry, and we would know if anything was amiss in the Muggle world."

"She…she won't say Dad," Harry admitted, studying the tabletop, unable to meet the older man's eyes. "She…after the battle at Hogwarts… she left. I don't know…maybe because of Ron…maybe because the …the baby's father left."

"You don't think the baby is Ron's?" Molly asked.

"No, no I don't. Ron…he would have said something. Bloody hell, he would have dragged her down to the Ministry and made her marry him the same day he found out. He would have been proud and…I don't care if the battle was going on. He wouldn't have been ashamed of her or the baby…he would have…" Harry stopped and looked up at Molly.

Molly put her hand over Harry's and patted him while she tried to collect herself. "He…he wanted to ask her. You know that? She was all he talked about the last time we saw him."

Arthur pulled off his jumper and pushed up his shirtsleeve. Taking out his wand, he waited for Harry to place the vial on the table and then uttering an incantation opened a vein in his arm and filled the vial. Wincing as Molly staunched the flow of blood and healed the small incision, he pushed the vial to Harry. With a stern caution that they not mention what had just happened, Harry left with the vial safely in his pocket.

It was a week later before Harry returned to The Burrow with the news that the child was not their grandson. The look on Molly's face was the same look he had seen when her sons had been taken from her, only to quickly change to one of rage and anger. Arthur tried to reason with her, to tell her that Hermione had never committed to Ron and that perhaps Ron had misinterpreted their relationship.

"She led him on," Molly sobbed. "How dare she…how dare she do this to him! Do you think he knew? Did he know she slept around?"

"She isn't like…" Harry started.

"Don't you defend her to me!" Molly hissed. "She led him on. All the time she was here…all the time she acted so sweet and innocent…she never loved him…she just let him go on thinking she did! She used him. She used him and never cared that she was hurting him. She didn't care!"

"Molly," Arthur said, trying to put his arms around her, only to have her push him away.

"Serves her right it does! Serves her right that the father left her high and dry. Let her get herself out of this one!"

Harry stood toeing the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets as she stormed out of the room and up the stairs. Waiting for the slam of her bedroom door, he turned to Arthur. "I'm sorry. She had to know. If she ran into Hermione someplace …with the baby…she…"

"I don't blame you, Harry," Arthur sighed, running his hands though his hair. "It's been hard on her. This past week all she has talked about is having Ron's son around here. Now this."

"I have to ask you something," Harry said uncomfortably. "I want your oath not to talk about this."

"About what? It will be obvious he's not ours when Hermione …"

"Not about only the parentage…but the fact that she had a baby. Her parents are adopting it. They…it's complicated, but they feel if he ever comes to this world…if he has magic…it would be better for everyone to think he is theirs."

Arthur nodded and looked up to the stairs. "She may never forgive Hermione but she won't let the boy suffer for it. If Hermione had come to her…instead of hiding it…I am sure Molly would have been the first to help…but not now."

"Thanks," Harry said unable to hide the relief in his voice. "In the Muggle world an unwed mother is quite common but here…well, you know how he would be treated."

"Who else knows?"

"The Midwife and Healer…Minerva…she handled the admission papers at St. Mungo's." Harry lied easily, not mentioning Snape, afraid he would have to explain how he had been involved. "Other than me that is…I haven't even said anything to Ginny."

"Don't," Arthur snorted a laugh. "She would take it worse than Molly just did."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**Hermione's Son**

* * *

"There's an empty room at the top of the stairs," Hermione said, tossing her coat on a chair. "The one at the end of the hall is the Professor's. It's locked and that means out of bounds."

"I don't know why we can't say in our house," Hugo pouted. "This place is a dump."

Hermione set her suitcase down and looked at the small sitting room with its faded carpet and fraying curtains. Sniffing the stale air she opened the window and told Hugh to do the same when he was upstairs, wondering how long this place had been closed. It seemed worse now than it had earlier in the day when they had brought the first load. She should have left the windows open and not worried about it, she thought, after all, what was here to steal? Hermione headed for the kitchen, planning to throw the door open and get more air circulating.

"Mum always fixed me something to eat before I went to bed."

"She did, hey? She must have gotten soft in her old age." Hermione couldn't help but be short with him, as he tried the same trick almost every night. She kept giving in rather than listening to him whine. "How about hot chocolate? I think I can manage that until I go shopping."

Hugo nodded and began to drag his suitcases up the stairs when the front door opened and a tall sour looking man with long hair and a grim face walked in.

"Professor…" Hermione greeted him. "Hugh…this is Professor Snape who has been nice enough to let us stay here until I can find something more suitable. Show your manners now."

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he muttered, and returned to his chore of dragging his luggage and two crates to his room.

"I was just going to make some hot chocolate. Would you care for some?"

"I was not aware you had moved already, Miss Granger. I would not have been so bold as to walk in if I had been aware of it. Do accept my…"

"No need," she said, turning to the kitchen. "It's your house and I told you we wouldn't be here till morning. I didn't think you would mind. Mary, she used to tend Hugh, had a car for the day."

"No, no problem. I had planned to remove my more personal items."

"I am leaving your room alone, feel free to use it any time you want. I plan to sleep down here while Hugo is home. I'm putting your oldest books and your breakables up there…you know… for storage. That's the only way we are going to fit in here."

Snape looked at the sofa and frowned. "You will not get much sleep on that thing. I have no need for my room here. Feel free to make use of it."

"I only sleep in small snatches anyway. A couple of hours at night, then I try to catch an hour or so later. Anyway, I seem to remember you were away during the hols I am sure whatever you do the room here would be more convenient. If I were paying rent, it would be different but as it is the room is yours whenever you have need of it. Would you rather have tea?" She stood peering into an almost empty can of cocoa. "Something stronger perhaps? I have a bottle of wine and I think there's some scotch. However, as to which crate they are in is a guess."

"Tea is fine," he answered, looking around the cluttered kitchen. "There is not enough cupboard space for you belongings. I only stay here during the summers and have not…"

"I didn't bring that much. I'm just in the middle of rearranging the cupboards," she said with a laugh. "I guess I should have been more prudent in what I saved. I tend to throw things away with every move just to repurchase them. This time I thought I would save more. Not a good idea."

"Sometimes it is hard to let go," he said again surveying the mess.

"Not for me. I always think to dump the old and get a new start. I can't imagine how much it cost my parents over the past years. I really gave it no mind until I had to straighten up their finances." She grinned and pointed to the counter and the dishes she had shoved into the corner. "It is you that can't let go. I've stacked up all the chipped and cracked dishes. Do you want to keep them? I don't think you can even _Repairo_ them anymore."

"No," he grumbled, waving his hand and muttering an incantation, ridding the kitchen of them. "I have little time for…housekeeping."

"Look in the oven. The pans in there are so old you should…"

"I do not cook," he muttered, pulling out rusty pans from the oven and sending them the same way as the dishes.

"Take- a -way? Surely not all the time. I would think one of the benefits of owning a home would be to eat something other than Hogwarts fare or cheap pub food. After years of cafeteria food at school I rather enjoy cooking."

"I remember," he said, smirking at her. "Melting chocolate and tempering eggs."

"That too," she laughed.

"How is your…brother…handling this?" He frowned, looking again at the mess. "I am sure he is used to much better. We should reconsider this."

"I don't know. He isn't open with me." She put on a pot of water and adjusted the flame. "I hope he likes tea. Strange, after all this time I don't even know. I don't have sugar and not enough milk. I found honey in the cupboard. Do you want some in yours?"

"You ignored me…we should recon…"

"It's a little late now," she said. "I can keep looking but…I am stuck here for at least a couple of…I'll keep looking," she sighed and turned back to making the tea. "I may take me a couple of weeks."

Snape heard the disappointment in her voice and ran his finger over the chipped cupboard door, seeing something that needed repair everyplace he looked. "It needs painting."

"The plaster is cracked too."

"Miss Granger, this is not a place for…"

"I can paint. That's easy. My mum used a sort of wallpaper…it's quite thick and once it's on the walls you paint over it. The cracks don't even show. The roof needs repair…that I can't do. That must be why It's worse upstairs, the moisture is getting into the walls."

Hearing a quiet desperation in her voice and remembering the argument he'd had with Minerva along with the constant nagging from Neville, he thought the best course of action was to take none. Leaning against the counter he folded his arms and stood quietly while she began to put the cups on the table and ramble on about what she could and could not do to the house.

"I know I may be too picky but I will not have him walking past an adult porn shop on the way to the grocery and the places I have found that are better than this aren't close to the train." She paused and turned to face him, swallowing hard. "Listen, once I start work I can ask around and find something else. I know this is an imposition but I need some time."

"Have you explained our world to him?" Snape frowned and levitated a stack of plates Hermione had stacked on the table into the cupboard, taking his chance when she took a pause from talking. "He may understand why this place is so …ill kempt."

"I've tried."

"And? Have you also told him about the prejudices he will encounter? The stigma of being the product of Muggles still exists. If you insist on keeping up this lie it may be more difficult for him."

Hermione continued to make the tea, measuring out loose leaves and putting them in the diffuser, ignoring his question.

"Or do you plan on just throwing him in with no preparation. A rather Slytherin thing to do I must say. However, I expected more from a Gryffindor." Finished with moving the dishes from the table he sat down, stiffly sitting on the edge of a chair.

"I wish they had done away with that damned hat."

"Afraid as to his sorting, Miss Granger?" he smirked, seeing her back stiffen.

"No, why should I be? And what right do you have to barge in here and start this?"

"It is quite likely his sorting will follow that of his father. Historically that is the accepted…"

"Shut up," she turned and hissed at him.

"I take it by your reaction that it will not be the tried and true house of Gryffindor, and since you would harbour no fear against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, I assume I will acquire a new student."

"I said stop this. I don't want to discuss it." She slammed her palm on the table and glared at him. "It isn't too late to find a hotel for the night. If you have changed your mind let me know now. But if this is my home I will demand you respect my wishes."

"Miss Granger, I only want to point out that Slytherin is a hard place for a young boy that is known as a Muggle born. You should remember that from your own time in school. Nothing has changed…except it is more…covert now. Being hidden, it is much harder for the heads of the houses to deal with. I mention this only to prepare you for what will be a very difficult time for him. Much harder than it was during your time in Hogwarts and much harder for a Slytherin."

"Do you think he would have it any easier if they knew the truth? This damned world won't accept him any faster and he would be open to ridicule from all the houses. My illegitimate child? In your precious Hogwarts? I would rather he be known as a Mudblood! I would rather have him make friends with kids that don't care and say to hell with the others."

Snape cleared his throat and nodded to the kitchen door, causing Hermione to spin around and see Hugo watching them, his face a study of confusion and fear. She swallowed hard, and took a step toward him, only to see him step back from her.

"Hugh…" she said as the breath left her lungs, and she felt a wave of terror wash over her.

"No!" The boy shook his head, stepping further back and away from her, his eyes travelling between her and Snape.

"Hugh…we need to talk," she whispered, putting a hand out to the counter to help steady herself.

"You're wrong! NO! Mum and Dad are dead! They were mine! I hate you! I hate you both! Don't say that! Don't ever say that again! It's a lie!" He screamed and tuned, running up to his room and slamming the door

"My gods," Hermione gasped, making it to one of the kitchen chairs and sitting down heavily.

"You need to …"

"Shut up! Don't tell me what I should and shouldn't do," she whispered, trying to keep her voice even. "I can't do this now. What do I say to him? How do I explain it? Why did you have to come and start this? We were doing fine before you came."

Snape looked at her with disgust and followed Hugo, taking the steps two at a time and disappearing from her sight. She sat staring at the tabletop until he returned nearly an hour later. When she looked up and saw a grim set to his jaw.

"He will be joining us as soon as he collects himself."

"What did you tell him?"

"Only that his father was killed in the final conflict and you thought it best to hide him from undue hardship."

"Nothing more?"

"He had to hear a little about the Dark Lord. However, do give me credit. I kept it as simple as I could. I have spent years dealing with young boys and I can tell you whatever I said will not be sufficient a month from now."

"Thank you," she sighed deeply and wiped her face dry on her tee.

"He will want to know about his father. He was…let me say…less than impressed with my explaintion."

"All he needs to know is what you told him."

"You have removed him from our world and kept him from what may be his only chance at an extended family long enough. Do you not think it is time to contact his father's family before they find out themselves?"

"I can't." She stood and busied herself dumping out the now cold over-steeped pot of tea and putting on fresh. "I've never talked about this…don't you understand I can't do it now?"

He pulled out his wand and set up silencing spells around them, then turned to the door and set a spell against that as well. Tucking his wand back in his pocket he folded his arms over his chest and smirked at her.

"Do you remember your second year charms?"

"Of course." She frowned at him.

"Do you remember the spell to verify blood lines? To differentiate between Muggle and Pureblood? "

Hermione blanched and sat back down on the chair. "I'll think…before then I'll think…"

"Of a lie?"

"Yes!" she spat, glaring up at him.

"Wouldn't it be easier to admit who the father was?"

"I don't know! You bastard! There! I said it! I don't know!"

"Miss Granger, there is only one way…" He stopped midsentence, seeing the truth in her eyes. "Fuck."

"Happy? Does it make it easier for you now? Bloody hell, I don't even remember all of it and it sickens me. I can't look at him and not…not think of it. How do I tell him that he was conceived from a rape? How do I make him understand that he is loved…that it's…that he's still loved when I can't even talk about it?"

"I had no idea. I am truly…" He stopped seeing her chin begin to tremble and the glint of tears welling in her eyes.

"Stop," she whispered, "please…just stop."

"In the hospital, when I came to identify you, I tried to look into your mind. Was this what you were hiding?"

Hermione studied his face, for the first time wanting to tell someone, to have just one person understand. "No…I…I don't know. I didn't even remember what had happened… not until later… I couldn't hide what I didn't remember. It's still not clear…I…it's as if I disappeared that night. Do you understand? Haven't you ever felt that way? That if you just went away everything would be undone? Everything would go back the way it was?"

Snape jerked his head toward the door and brought down the silencing spells as Hugo was coming down the stairs. Standing quickly, Hermione wiped her face again and finished the tea, putting the pot on the table as Hugo walked in.

"Sorry kid-o, all we have is tea." She stood biting her lip, studying her son's face.

"He said I don't have to call you Mum."

"No, no you don't"

"He said I don't even have to like you."

"No, I expect right now you don't. I'll tell you a secret. Right now I don't like myself very much either."

"He said I only have to…he said I have to respect you."

"I would appreciate that."

"Mum doesn't let me drink tea."

"I bet tonight she would," Hermione said, fighting to keep her voice under control. "I think she would be so very proud of you and Dad would tell her that you weren't a little kid anymore. He would say you were grown up to come down here and face me."

Snape went up to his room, leaving the two alone in the kitchen to drink their tea. Hermione added enough honey to Hugo's cup to make it palatable to him, knowing she had made it so strong she could barely drink it herself. They sat together, neither talking, both feeling the tension in the air and neither knowing how to dispel it. Finally, Hugo stood and stiffly bid Hermione good night, and all but fled to his room.

Hearing the boy's door slam, Snape make his was down to the kitchen where Hermione was washing up the teacups. Leaning against the doorframe, he watched her for a while before talking.

"Do you want to finish our conversation?"

"No."

Snape chuckled and lowered his head until his chin was resting on his chest.

"You have nice laugh. You should do it more," Hermione said softly. "I am sorry I yelled at you. I've been terrified of this and now that it's happened…maybe I should feel relieved. Thanks for talking to him. I think he needed male support…I thank you for that. There is so much I don't know about raising kids…and yes, I know I have to do better. It's …hard."

"And you should stop changing the topic."

"Snape, listen. I didn't even know all that had happened. I mean…yes, I knew it…but not really. It's odd…but I shut everything out. It was…is…like a nightmare. You know…when you wake up but can't remember it a few minutes later. That's what it still feels like. The Healers said that the trauma of my injury might have caused it. Like…being in a bad auto accident…and not remembering it later. It's truly gone …or…perhaps never there to begin with. The healer said if my mind shut down when I was cursed, everything after that might be lost. They said I may or may not remember it in time. They don't know. I guess some people never recover their memories…others…"

"There is more. If it were an injury, you would have let me see it, not hidden it so well…not felt the fear I found. You were not concerned over the child or your injury."

He crossed the room and pulled out his wand as he did. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he waited until she stopped struggling against him and then slowly raised his wand to her forehead. Hearing her sigh and seeing her close her eyes and nod her permission, he cast the spell and entered her mind.

He was immediately surprised at the force of her reaction. Her hands fisted his robes, as if needing to stay grounded, to make sure he did not leave her with her memories. The next thing he saw was blackness, and the feel of her walking down a winding staircase, keeping one hand on the wall as her only guide. He recognised where she was, as he had travelled the same path daily for years, and knew she was heading toward the dungeons. He listened with her, hearing a voice in the distance.

Unable to see her face in the darkness of this memory, he felt only her curiosity at the voice. She did not realize it was a ruse, the voice too clear, too close, and not echoing in the closed stone staircase.

At the bottom of the stairs, a dim light shone in the distance, which she hurried towards, still not sensing the danger. Hermione's grip tightened on his robes as he pulled her tighter to his body to reinforce the fact that he was here, that it was just a memory, that she was safe.

He watched as a hooded, half-masked man grabbed her, pushing her against the stone wall, and whispered cruel obscenities into her ear at the same time footfalls could be heard running down the steps behind them. Turning back to Hermione, he saw her struggle, and witnessed her ability in Muggle fighting to get out of the clutches of what he assumed was Hugo's father.

His arm tightened again as she fought not to call out. He saw her plant her feet and pull her wand, knowing she would be no match for this man. He saw her throw a curse, the footfalls behind her going unheard. He saw her dodge a _Sectumsempra_, catching only the edge and saw the blood that seeped out onto her blouse, spreading over her robes, as she spun and cast an Arvada Kedavra.

The air around them became heavy with mist. Swiping his hand in the air, he tried to see beyond what she wanted to remember and see what she needed to hide. He winced as she stumbled, falling forward, throwing her curse wild. He could tell something was happening that he could not see, her memories became fogged and confused. Uttering the incantation again, to strengthen the spell, he felt Hermione begin to fight against him as he clearly saw what was happening.

He saw her raise to her knees, one hand pushed into her left breast, unknowingly staunching the blood flow as her right left hand reached out in front of her, to what , he could not see. Snape had never felt such remorse, such utter and hopeless despair as he did in Hermione's mind.

He saw the wizard that had first attacked her, grab her shoulders and spin her around, slamming her head to the floor and ripping at her clothes. However, what was more telling to him was watching Hermione crane her neck, still reaching out for something he could not see, reaching out as if in the finding she could make all her pain and what was happening go away. He felt her turn in, her mind closing as her memories dimmed to blackness.

Snape sucked in a lungful of air as he pulled out of Hermione's mind. Releasing her at once and allowing her to slump to the floor, he spun around to the counter, putting out his hands to steady himself, dragging in gulps of air, then turned and looked down at her. Sliding to the floor, his back to the cupboards and his long legs extend out in front of him, he hauled her up to his lap and pushed her head to his shoulder, feeling her body hitch as she sobbed.

"I couldn't tell them. I couldn't," she said, her voice ragged. "The Healers said I…they said I needed to talk about what had happened. About my…my injury….about my loss when Hugh's father died. That's what I told them…that he died. I just couldn't tell them the truth. Hugh can't know…he can never know."

"Shhh," Snape made shushing sounds, at a loss of how to comfort the witch.

"I remember the curse… and what…what he did to me…but I didn't feel it…all I remember…it's like a dream…still…like a dream. I'd rather he think his father is dead or hates him than the truth. "

"Miss Granger," he started.

"I was there when Ron died," she whispered, tipping up her head to look at him. "I think he was trying to help me."

"It was not in your…"

She put one hand over his mouth and shook her head. "But it was. It doesn't matter how…or why…don't you understand? I know it…I feel it…I just can't remember it. I think he died for me."

"So, you left because of this, and not because of the injury or the child."

"I wanted to go home," she sobbed, nestling back to his shoulder. "I remember thinking that my mum and dad would be waiting for me and that if I could just make it home everything would be okay again. Everything would be like before, only…it wasn't and I had forgotten they weren't even home. I had forgotten what I did to them."

"That's enough for tonight," Snape said, removing her from his lap and standing up, reaching down his hand to help her stand.

"What do I do now?" she asked softly, ignoring his hand and pulling up her knees, wrapping her arms around them. "What do I tell Hugo? Don't you see? Don't you…"

"You have to decide how you feel about him. I grew up in this very house and although my parentage was known, I can assure you I was most unwanted. Unless you plan to do the same to your son, you need to consider other options. There are families that…"

"But I do love him, I do. I really, truly do. In the beginning…when I heard my parents had adopted him, I didn't care one way or the other. Later, I couldn't undo it, even if I had wanted to. I couldn't support him. I could never hate him, not now…not…he's my son. I just can't look at him and not remember the war and everything that happened that day. I can't get past it. I look at Hugh and see Ron. Sometimes I …I pretend he's Ron's. He would have been…he would have been ours."

"You need to see a Healer, and this time be truthful with them. Until you do, you will never get beyond this."

"I can't, I can't tell anyone. What happens if it gets out? What if someone tells Hugh?"

"No? Yet you told me."

"Because you were there…you took me to St. Mungo's and saw what I was like. Harry doesn't treat me the same now, he thinks I betrayed Ron and took a lover. I saw him before I left to study...Hugh was still small. I think he fought with my parents about it. What do you think he and the Weasleys will do if they knew the truth? If they knew Ron died for me? It's one thing to think I cheated on Ron…but if they know what I did…that I must have been there and didn't stop it..."

"You did nothing. You may have witnessed it. That does not mean it was your fault or you were able to stop it," Snape said, looking at her strangely.

Hermione pulled away from him and stood up on her own, returning to the sink and beginning to sort the kitchen. "If I hadn't been so bloody stupid and gone down there alone, none of this would have happened. I have to finish up sorting the kitchen and I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"It is late. We should continue this when you have time to calm down and think logically."

"I am thinking logically. He will get an education. For now, that includes Hogwarts. However, if it becomes difficult for him or if things don't' work for him I can home school him, that or move to Germany of France. I don't need to be in England to work, as you well know."

"Miss…"

"No, as you said this is not about me. This is about Hugh and I will do what I have to."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**June 2003**

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Hermione moved from St. Mungo's to a small apartment near a train station and close to an adult education establishment that her father had found for her. She was determined to find a way to survive on her own, not wanting to fall back into dependence on her parents but at the same time not yet able to take care of herself. Although she had tried to move out of the hospital and live by herself before, this time she was confident of success.

She found herself sorely behind the rest of the Muggle world in her mathematics and knowledge of sciences. Having only studied magical potions she was not prepared for the most rudimentary job in a field she loved. Even her literature knowledge seemed years behind what she would need for a further education although she excelled in ancient Greek and Latin. Prepared with a list of required reading from the government school system she made a trip to the bookshop to stock her empty shelves. Adding a few from a second list of suggested, but not required reading, she arranged for delivery, as the piles were too heavy for her to carry.

Glancing at her watch as she left the shop, she headed for St. Mungo's for the first of her outpatient sessions. She hated this part. Hated sitting in front of a Healer and talking about feelings, about what she wanted to do with her life and how she planned to go on from here.

It had taken her a year to learn how to play the game and to spit back what they wanted to hear. A year to heal and year to convince some idiot counsellor, that she could live on her own. Now, she had to sit and listen to him tell her how to live as a Muggle, as if he could tell her more than she already knew. She learned to manufacture memories that fit into their idea of what had happened and found books that explained posttraumatic stress that helped her tell the healers what they wanted to hear.

"Miss Granger, how are we today?" Healer Clough opened the door to his office, waving her to a small seating area he had set up in the corner.

"_We_ are fine," she said, tossing her pocketbook on the floor and sitting in one of the wing back chairs

"So, it's been a week."

She knew he was waiting for a response but only sat and looked at him, thinking of all the time she had spent in this same chair, talking (or not talking) about the same things. At first, she had feigned interest on the paintings and certificates that hung on the walls. Now, she didn't pretend, only sat and started back, showing her contempt and utter distain for the Healer.

"Your lessons, have they started yet?"

"No."

"I see," he muttered looking down at his notepad. "Have you decided which lessons you are taking?"

"Yes."

"Have you visited your parent's home?"

"No."

"I see, and why is that? I would think after your long absence you would want to see your childhood home."

"It's not my home. They sold the old house and bought a smaller one north of the city."

"How do you feel about that?"

Hermione was careful not to alter her position or change her expression, as he was apt to interpret anything she did. "We have spoken of this already."

"Have you seen your son?"

"My brother. My parents adopted him. He is my brother now as you well know."

"Are you ready to talk about him?"

"No. If you are interested in him you need to talk to his parents."

"Are you ready to tell us who his father is so we may contact him?"

"No," she snapped. "How many times must I tell you we had already separated? He or his family has nothing to do with any of this."

"How does it make you feel to know your parents are raising your son?"

"Listen, we have been over this time and time again. Unless you have something new to go over I have other things to do."

"We have never uncovered your feelings as to the matter."

"I've told you that since I am unable to care for him and my parents are, this is the best arrangement for all concerned. Furthermore, I don't know what you expect me to say. I've also told you, on several occasions, that I am ready to get on with my life. Coming back here once a week is only going to keep me here…in this world…I need to move on."

"You feel ready for that?"

Hermione pressed her lips together and looked at him coldly.

"How would you feel if we made this a monthly meeting?" The Healer asked, jotting at note in his book.

"I would feel better if you signed off on me completely. I feel like I am being watched all the…no I am not paranoid…I know that until you close my case I am a security risk. I have never been a risk and you know it."

"Miss Granger, I have no legal right to refuse your request. However, I feel you have not reached the point that you should stop our sessions."

"Sign the release," she said, then shrugged her shoulders, leaning back in her chair. "That or I come in once a month and we discuss the weather. It's London. Rain, looks like rain, and partly cloudy. There, that should cover the rest of the summer."

"I will have the papers drawn up in the morning. I want you to do something for me. I want you to keep a diary of sorts…a journal. I want you to write down your feelings. Not what happens during the day, but the way you feel about things."

"Fine. The same thing we tried a year ago." She stood up, grabbing her pocketbook from the floor. "Why can't you just accept that it was the war…and the injury I received? I saw everyone dead, knowing that we should have been able to stop what was happening. Christ, I was seventeen, what did you think would happen? I'm not the only one that drags in here to talk."

"Strange you did not mention the fact that the father of your child deserted you."

"Perhaps because I have accepted that. I can't change it and I can't run from it. It's time for me to get on with things." She turned on her heel as she left, breathing the first breath of freedom she had felt in well over two years.

She was angry with herself for loosing her temper at previous sessions and knew that before the day was finished she would send him a note of apology for her behaviour as she had almost once a month for the last year. She was almost through the lobby when she heard her name called and spun around expecting to see one of the clerks running after her.

"Ron?"She heard the name come out of her mouth at the same time she realized it was Charlie walking towards her.

"Hermione," he said her name softly as he leaned down and kissed one cheek and then the other. "I haven't seen you for years. How are you?"

"Fine, you…you startled me."

"I do that sometimes." He took her elbow and led her to the side of the lobby to be out of the way. "What have you been up to? No one wants to…"

"I decided to come back here and live in London. I'm just in the hospital today to visit someone," she lied.

"Mum acts like…I don't know what. I came back last week and we were sitting around…you know…just talking about what everyone was up to…and when I asked about you she left the room."

"You'll have to ask her. You know how she wants to keep everything the same. Perhaps it's just that I'm not in her world anymore."

"How about lunch? I have the whole day free."

"Oh, Charlie, I'd like that but I am really busy today. Can we make it another day?"

"Sure, name it." He grinned. "I've been away so long that when I do come home I don't see anyone from the old days.'

"You know how to make a girl feel young," she joked. "I'll owl you."

"I'm at The Burrow…just send it there…or floo."

"I will," Hermione stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, then left him in the lobby, fleeing into the streets of London.

She was thankful Charlie did not follow and had accepted what she said, but she suspected, by his reaction, that he understood she was brushing him off. Hurrying to her new home, she finished unpacking the few boxes she had. Opening one she did not recognise, she realized it was from her mother's house, full of things she had left there. On top of the pile of forgotten objects was a picture of her, Harry and Ron.

Picking it up the photograph she tried to remember when it had been taken and thought it was fourth year. It seemed so long ago. She was relieved to see it as a childhood picture that no longer conjured thoughts of death and destruction. She sighed, closing the box and pushing it into the hall, not able to look further into the box. Deciding that she had enough photos and memories and what she needed was a fresh start she left the box for the trash bin.

After changing clothes, putting on sweats and a pair of new trainers, she set off for the park. Running was her new release, an activity that she found she could do to close her mind and only hear the constant rhythm of her feet and the sound of her own breathing. It was easy for her to lose herself in London. Easy to fill her time with school, studying and the case of books she was free to read whenever she wanted instead of the strict time schedule of the hospital. She found she liked to stay up late, sometimes until dawn only to grab a couple of hours of sleep before heading out to a late class.

The school was strange to her. Full of older students, not unlike herself, several struggling to learn the English language at the same time they fought to finish their education. The lack of structured lessons at first irritated Hermione and had her at a loss of what to expect. It soon became apparent that the structure allowed her to progress more quickly while giving those still fighting to keep up the time they needed to succeed.

Studying over the weekends, taking extra lessons, and working one on one with her science teachers she completed the five years she was behind in a little less than two.

"Congratulations," Robert Cummings shook her hand as he handed her certificate to her. "We expect you back in June for the celebration."

"I may not be here," s he beamed, looking at the paper he had given her. "I want to start Uni as soon as possible."

"You need to take the exam if…"

"No, I plan to study overseas. I have a couple of possibilities. All they require is my transcripts. They are testing me when I get there."

"Really?" He frowned. "This time of year it is most unusual for a first year…"

"I have an appointment at the University of New York and a couple of others. They have summer programs that I can get into. I want to get away for a while."

Over the next few years, Hermione's only contact with home was through letters and the occasional e-mail that she still felt uncomfortable using. She made a point of remembering her _brother's _birthdays and as he got older marked her calendar as a reminder to write to him at least once a month. Her mum sent her photos of him on occasion and Hermione, at first only able to glance at them, slowly became curious as to his appearance and took to carrying one in her handbag.

He was a strange mix, this brother-son of hers. He had grey eyes, as did their father and thick hair not unlike her own. Unlike hers, however, his hair laid flat and easily combed into place. He wore it long; at least to Hermione it appeared long, over his ears at the side and brushing his collar in the back. She had been surprised that her parents allowed such a thing but when the next picture included an ear piercing, she had smiled and figured they had finally entered the twenty- first century.

At first, it had been hard to look at the pictures and not see the characteristic Granger chin, only the cocky tilt of his head, his smile that twisted his mouth to one side and a single dimple in his left cheek. Over the years, as he grew, she became accustom to seeing him age six months at a time and came to see his smile as the same lop-sided grin she had found so endearing in Ron. Fighting her own natural reluctance, she managed to hook up a web cam and talk to her parents and Hugh, finally feeling once again part of the family.

It was hard to be so far from everything she knew but when she was offered a summer fellowship at the University of Michigan she once again wrote home, telling her father of the great opportunity that would not come her way again. Put off by his response suggesting that she take a year off from her studies and come home, only to receive word of his death a week later.

She caught the first flight home, rented a car and drove home, twice avoiding a near collision when she attempted a right turn. Having driven for the past years in the States it was hard to accustom herself to driving on the opposite side of the road. As she pulled up in front of the house, she wasn't surprised to see her mother step out with a weak smile, one hand holding Hugh's and the other reaching out for her daughter's.

I had been a hard week that turned into a long month. When Hermione returned to the States, where she had been forced to surrender her fellowship, she attempted to throw herself back into her work with the same abandon she had felt before. This time it was impossible. She couldn't forget her mother's hug at the airport, or the hollow sound in her voice. She couldn't forget the way Hugh sobbed at night or the quiet sound of the sitting room without Dad's sports channel blaring from the telle.

By far the largest blow came a few months later, this time catching her in the middle of the night shift at County General where she was putting in her time in their intern program. The telegram had been short and to the point.

_Jean Granger died at 6:02 am. Your presence required._

This time no one greeted her at the front door. No one offered her a weak smile and a tender hug. This time Mary opened the door and stood stiffly to the side, indicating with a jerk of her head that Hugh was in the sitting room.

"Hey kid-o" Hermione said, setting down her suitcase.

"Our Mum died," he said, silent tears welling in his eyes.

"I know," she choked, squatting down in font of the sofa and using the pad of her thumb to wipe his eyes. "We're going to be fine."

"I want my Mum."

"So do I," she sighed. "So do I."

"I told him she was with his Dad," Mary said from the doorway. "Didn't I Hugo? Didn't I say that your Dad wanted to see her?"

Hermione looked at Mary over Hugh's head wanting to tell her to shut up and not to put foolish ideas in a child's head but held her tongue. Pulling back just far enough to tip up Hugh's face, she kissed his forehead and tried to smile.

"I'm sure she wanted to stay with you. Now, what would Mum tell you?"

"That… that… I don't want to," he sobbed.

"Come on kid-o. Say it for me. What did she say when Dad left?"

"That if we believe in God we shouldn't cry when someone dies. That we should be happy for them. But I'm not."

"I am. I am sorry for myself…and for you…and because she's not here...but I'm happy for her." Gently removing his arms from around her neck, she stood and looked around the room. Vases of flowers lent a suffocating fragrance to the room and piles of condolence cards littered the end tables. "Mary, have any arrangements been made?"

"She is where your Dad was. I thought she would want the same thing. You know, just family."

"Thank you." Hermione nodded. "Hugh? You know it's almost midnight?"

"Mary said I could wait up for you."

"I know, but I'm here now. What do you say you sleep in with me tonight?"

"I'll let my self out," Mary said as Hermione took Hugh by the hand and started up the stairs.

That night, she lay with her son in her arms for the first time she could remember. Once he was sleeping she let the own tears fall to the pillow, not sure if she was crying for herself or for the little boy whose life had just changed forever. She wondered what she would have felt if they had died when she was only eleven. Only eleven, she thought. Who would have taken her to the train? Who would have been waiting with open arms each time she came home? Who would have been there for her and who would she have wanted to run to so badly that she forgot all else?

She rose up on her elbow and studied Hugh's face, wondering if she could do this wondering when that maternal instinct she had read and heard so much about would catch hold.

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**A/N: The story is now in tandem. From here there will be only the present story. Short of making these first seven chapters into fifteen I took the route of doing entire flashback chapters. Hope it was not confusing. Thanks. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 8**

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Hermione was buried under two blankets and a quilt when the sound of Hugo's shouts and a crash came from the kitchen. Bolting up right and fighting to get out from under the coverings that caught and wrapped around her legs she fell in a heap on the floor.

"Hugh! Hugh! Run!" she shouted, confused and disorientated as the last of her dream played out in real life, her right hand grouping the back of her waist band, her left protecting her chest.

"Sis!" Hugh ran out from the kitchen waving his Hogwarts letter in the air. "What are you doing down there?"

"Bloody hell boy," she hissed, kicking the blankets away and managing to get to her feet. "I thought the house was on fire! Calm down!"

"After I leave you can use my bed," Hugh said, biting back a laugh. "You don't look so good."

"Thanks, just what I need…a kid telling me I look like shite. Now let me see that thing."

She sat down while he finished the tea and took down bowls for a cold breakfast. "This list is twice as long as mine was and you even have to pay a supply fee."

Hermione waved him to the cupboard and told him to grab honey while she went over the list. She cringed seeing they still used the expensive parchment and quill, and thought that although it was one of her favourite memories, paper and ballpoint would be much more economical. Continuing on, she noticed two books on mathematics and raised an eyebrow, surprised that they had finally realized the importance of math to the Muggle-born who may someday want to return to what they had known.

"I want you to spend some of your personal time on Muggle books," Hermione muttered. "That or your entire summer is going to be spent in your room reading and catching up."

"Ah, come on…I just…"

"No, young man, you come on. It took me years to catch up and _I will not_ have that happen to you. Anyway, you'll like most of the books on the required reading list. I'll add some history and some on geography but most of it won't be bad."

"I can take your old reading thing. You still have it? That kindle or whatever you called it?"

"No electricity, so no lap tops, telle or video games," she muttered as she read, smiling to hear his whine. "Sorry kid, hard as it is, you'll have to hold a real book and learn penmanship, spelling, grammar. No more, type, spell check and print for you. That's one reason you'll grow to love your books. There's not much else to do up there."

"So…what's on it?" Hugh tried to look over her shoulder to see what it contained. "Can I at least have my phone?"

"No. Oh, Hugh, you have _no idea_ what you're in for. Uniforms, one set of dress robes… if we buy them now they will never fit by the end of the year. We'll put off getting them until the hols at least. How are last year's boots?"

"Can we go today?"

"I have work. You know, when I went it was popular to wear hats and scarves in your house colours. Once you get sorted I'll make you one." She sipped the tea while making a mental calculation on the cost of all the supplies. "Professor Snape said he would take you if I couldn't."

"Today?"

"I don't know," she said tapping the list. "If we wait to get some of these books at the hols they may be on sale. We'll do just fine. You don't need them all at once and for the reading books I have some saved back and the rest we can get second hand."

"Do ya think he'll come today?"

"I…listen. We need to talk before you go. There are some things you need to know about me, Uncle Harry and a lot of people you will hear about."

"Him too? Is that why he had a row with…"

"Yeah, he's a wizard too, but I don't know about the row. I'll hazard a guess that it was about me leaving." She looked at the clock and grimaced. "I'm going to be late again if we do this now. Tonight?"

"Will they know about …you and …you know…what you said?"

"No, the only person that knows at Hogwarts is Professor Snape and the Headmistress."

"He said he was your professor too."

"Yes, you'll have a few that were there when I was."

"Was Mum or Dad one?"

"No, that's what we need to talk about." She sighed and put down the list, turning to look at him fully. "Some people, not many, and none of those that will be your friends, will call you names and…"

"You said they wouldn't know."

"Not about me and you…not exactly. They'll call you …Mudblood or half-bred. They will say you aren't as good as them because your parents, because Mum and Dad, weren't magical."

"What about my dad….my real dad."

"You only have one father and he raised you. Remember that." She stopped and looked at the clock. "We'll finish this tonight when I get home. Until then you know the rules and only call me on the cell in an emergency. You can go over the list and see what you already have…and check the books on the bottom two shelves."

**~o0o~**

The Harrington Institute was a large facility that encompassed several smaller companies within it. Hermione had no doubt that the structure was to afford a level of legal protection to the parent company but found it rather cumbersome and restrictive. Each division was separated from the rest by mounds of paper work and policies restricting not only fraternization within ones work group, but rules that banned simple socializing with those in other divisions. What she had hoped would give her friendships only a short two weeks ago now seemed an overbearing and oppressive system of security and paranoia.

All day her mind kept going back to Hugh, how she should not leave him alone, and what she had to tell him about her part in the war. She knew as soon as his name became known he would hear stories and exaggerated tales about the war. Twice she contaminated cultures by improper handling and cursed aloud, drawing the attention of her employer and groans from her co-workers.

"Miss Granger," her boss sighed as he took the dish and threw it into the hazardous waste container. "We have a limited amount to work with."

"I know," she sighed. "I can't keep my mind on work."

"Problems at home?" he asked, sitting on the stool next to her, looking pointedly at her ring finger. "I hate to say this, but unless your work improves…well, we can't keep making exceptions."

"I had an old time table for the train. I don't mean to make excuses. I just want you to know that I will be on time…"

"We could talk this over, along with your future in this company, say over dinner?"

"My brother lives with me. I have to go right home," she turned back to her work, wanting this conversation ended.

"We could make it a Thursday. I'm afraid the little woman keeps me on a short leash over the weekends." His finger touched her hand and traced its way up to her elbow. "I think we need to come to an understanding concerning your…future performance."

"I understand that you are out of line." She pulled her arm away from his touch and stood glaring at him. "If you are done I have work to do and I strongly suggest that you consider this conversation over."

"I pulled your application and noticed some…discrepancies. Normally someone in an entry-level position such as yours is much younger. Perhaps we could…correct the situation. Move you up. I am looking for an assistant."

"Right," Hermione muttered, gathering up her personal belongings and cramming them into her handbag. "An assistant with benefits?"

"You catch on quickly. I thought you might. "

"No."

"I also noticed some gaps in time on your application that were not fully disclosed. You do understand this is grounds for dismissal. I could pull your security badge."

"Shove it," she hissed. "If you think I am going to fuck you just to keep my…"

"Miss Granger, it is I that will do the hard work. You just need to lie there and occasionally…"

That was when her open hand connected with his face. She turned on her heel feeling the eyes of the other lab workers on her, and all but ran from the room_. Shite, shite, shite_, she thought, what now_?_ Riding the train back home, she knew she had handled it poorly. She should have reported him and made an example to the other woman she knew he must be intimidating. At the same time, she knew she would not be able to sit through an investigation about sexual misconduct.

Later that afternoon, she wrote a letter to her solicitor and to the institute's board, stating the reason she had left and repeating the conversation word for word. She referenced the part of her contract concerning severance pay and hinted very strongly that unless it was paid, regardless of her short time on the job, she would peruse the matter legally. She then sent Hugh to the post and felt vindicated as she once again sat and went through adverts in the paper.

"Sis!" Hugh called as he came in the front door. "He's here!"

"Manners," she said, walking back into the sitting room. "Professor Snape, how nice."

"I got my letter!"

"I am aware of that," Severus said. "I am prepared to fulfil my promise."

"Now?" Hugh smiled widely, unable to hide his excitement.

"Yes," Severus intoned.

"No, not until I tell him about …you know…"

"Mr. Granger, do you remember the conversation we had concerning your parentage?"

"Umm…yeah…I mean…Yes sir."

"That's good enough." He turned to Hermione. "He's ready."

"Git. He is not. As soon as his last name comes up…"

"Yeah, he told me." Hugh nodded. "He said you and your friends mucked things up all the time and got your name in the papers. He said just to ignore the looks I get and not to talk to bugs or people I don't know."

"This is what you think dealing with children is? Good one. Now he thinks I was a troublemaker. Stop looking at me like that…I was not."

"I didn't say a word," Snape said with a small smirk on his face. "Mr Ganger, setting people on fire, stealing supplies, sneaking out of your room after curfew, and chasing dangerous animals through the school are all henceforth to be considered mucking up, and as such will not be tolerated. There is a complete list of one Hermione Granger's infractions in a Mr. Filch's file cabinet. Perhaps I will be able to gain access and show you."

"Hugh, don't listen to him. He lies. He lies all the time." She grinned at Severus then quickly frowned. "Filch is still there?"

"No, however his files are," Snape said, smirking at the sudden change in her demeanour. "We also touched briefly on your part in the war and the fact that he should not let the recognition of his name go to his head as Potter did."

"Hugo, we need to talk. You and me…without him."

"Hey, what? Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"Manners, Mr. Granger." Severus pinched his nose.

"Yeah, well…she called me Hugo and when she does that it means…"

"All women are like that. I believe it is taught in Muggle Social Studies. We, however, learn it as a first year."

"Fine, we'll talk about it later," she told her son, not sure if Severus was joking or just being his sarcastic self. "Just listen to the Professor and don't go off the list. Listen to what he tells you…but only about manners and such…not what he says about me. Oh, and an owl… I have no idea how much they cost but we need a small barn owl I can keep here."

"I have three that were raised in the yard here. The youngest is not acclimating to the owlery. It would be helpful if you were to keep her. She is fully trained and would free me from constantly monitoring her progress."

"Wow, do they live that long?"

"Hugo Sullivan Granger!" Hermione heard Snape's snort of laughter and glared at him. "It's my mother's maiden name. Shut up."

"It is quite alright," Snape said, his lip fighting to curl up into a smile, looking down at the boy. "I lived here in the summers until this year. The owl is young and will see you through your school years. I am sure your mot…sister can show you the proper care and feeding. If not we will purchase you a book."

"Another one?"

"I'll have tea waiting when you get back. Something special," Hermione smiled thinly at Hugh. "You can't look it up on the internet…yes, another bloody book that I expect you to read."

"Why don't you come? Come on, Sis, it'll be fun. Please?"

"Not this trip. I need to get a new paper to check the adverts and put dinner on." She bit her lip and looked up at Snape. "So, being near the train is no longer an issue."

By the time they returned, laden with packages, Hugh full of energy and Snape looking somewhat pained, Hermione had a celebration tea set out, telling him their Mum had done the same thing when she had received her letter. Insisting that Severus stay she pushed him toward the kitchen as Hugh talked non-stop about everything he had seen and heard. Severus seemed at ease and comfortable, helping Hermione clear the table and promising to wait while she took Hugh up to bed.

"Leave the rest," Hermione said, with a quick look around the room. "You look exhausted."

"It was a simple shopping trip," he said, raising his chin.

"Right," she sniggered. "I've taken him shopping in a Muggle district. I can only imagine what he put you through."

Using magic, Severus sorted the kitchen in a few minutes. Then, walking into the sitting room he was at first surprised to see the furniture moved and his bookcases rearranged, until he noticed Hermione had put all of his tomes higher up and out of the way. New curtains hung on the windows and a bright flowered slipcover hid the shabby sofa.

Squatting down next to the kitchen doorframe, he ran his hand over faint nicks under layers of paint, still visible to his eye. Starting at the lowest mark, he slowly felt his way to the top groove and remembered the last time his mother had recorded his height. He had been nine. Only nine years old and trying to stop his father from hurting his mum, he thought, younger than the young boy upstairs. Nine years old when he first lifted his hand to hurl magic at a man who had dared hit his mother and the first time he had felt the power of magic flow through him.

Standing up he glanced up the stairs and wondered how much different his life would have been if his home had been what it was now. He could hear their quiet voices, the boy as he chanted nighttime prayers, and Hermione's soft questioning about brushed teeth and washed hands.

"Sis," Hugh said as he lay on the bed and Hermione pulled up the covers. "Was my dad a wizard? He must've been."

"Yes, yes he was." She sat on the edge of the bed and ran her hand through his hair. "But that doesn't mean anything. Mum and Dad were normal Muggles yet I was born a witch."

"Was he powerful?"

"Power in the magical world is what you do with your magic. Look at Professor Snape. He grew up in this very house, not even a full wizard, and he is one of the most …maybe _the_ most powerful wizard there is. It's because he studied and learned how to use his magic. That's what makes him powerful. Perhaps one day I'll tell you about someone else that could use wandless magic, someone that was even a werewolf."

"A what?" Hugh's eyes grew large as he struggled to sit up.

"Lay back, that's a story for another time. You are going to find an amazing world. One you can only dream of. You need to keep an open mind and not judge people…or things…you have to learn about them…and accept people for what they are. People like, yes, werewolves and people you don't understand. When you arrive on the train, there will be a large man waiting. His name is Hagrid. I want you to introduce yourself. "

"He's a werewolf?"

"No," she said grinning," a half giant and the nicest person you will meet in a long time. Tell him you're my brother and I a sure he will invite you to his hut for tea, just don't eat the biscuits."

"But my dad…was he a wizard?"

"Just a wizard, yes. Is that important to you?'

"No, I guess not," he sighed loudly.

"All you need to know is that you can be anything you want to be. You can become the strongest or…you can come back to this world when you are done at Hogwarts. No matter what happens, Hugh, I love you. You need to remember that. No matter what you hear, no matter what people say to you, I love you. You just remember Mum and Dad and how proud they would be of you."

"Sis," he sat up and stopped her as she had her hand on the light switch, ready to leave. "What happens to us now? You lost your job."

"I have some money put back," she grinned. "I know I always harp about the prices but this is why. I always have enough for a few months, more because we don't have to pay rent here. Just go easy and we'll be fine for a long time. Don't go worrying about it."

From the top step, she saw Severus standing with a picture of her parents in his hands and started down. "That was taken the year before Dad died. He knew but didn't tell anyone. Then, when he asked me to take a year off and come home…I didn't do it. I'll always feel guilty for that."

"Heart?"

"No, he had cancer. It had already metastasized to the brain by the time it was diagnosed. I guess he decided not to go through with useless treatments. Mum said he didn't want me to know. Her heart gave up a year later."

Returning to the kitchen, she thanked Severus for his time as the stacked Hugh's supplies in one of the now empty cupboards. Sitting opposite him she asked him about what they had encountered, paying close attention to the type of wand Hugh had been fitted with. Surprised that his included a dragon heartstring she had laughed and said it was a sign of a true Gryffindor.

"He seemed to accept everything," Severus said. "I had, however, hoped you had explained more."

"I wanted him to see it with fresh eyes. You never felt what I did when I saw it the first time. With your mother being a witch, even if she didn't use magic in the house, you were aware of it. It's like…like seeing a rainbow for the first time and understanding that it's not only you that can see it. It's the first time I felt I really belonged some place."

"He was unprepared. Unlike you, he is uncomfortable with the unknown. He should not be so when he arrives at school."

"He asked about his father."

"I would be surprised if he did not."

"I think he is trying to …to find a replacement for my dad. Enough of this maudlin talk," she said with a laugh. "Have you had time to look at any of the potions we talked about?"

"Yes, I have not had time to brew enough to say with certainty that you are correct. However, at the preliminary level there is merit."

"Enough to continue?"

"Most certainly."

"I'm out of work. I have more than enough time to help." She stated flatly. "Come on, at least look surprised. Say something smart…you know…_Oh my, Hermione, how could they let such a bright and beautiful person go? Y_ou know…something to make me feel better."

"You quit."

"I didn't say smart arse…I said say something smart. And yes, I did." She grinned and stood to begin washing dishes chatting on about potions and the number of trials that he needed to complete to know for sure if the methods would work in every case. "I really didn't like doing someone else's grunt work at the Harrington. The experiments they are working on are going to fail. I was just going through the motions."

"Hugo was looking for a book today. He says you are researching for a book you plan to write. When we were in the book shop he was interested in seeing the biography section." Severus managed to change the topic as soon as there was a lull in her banter.

"Just something to pass my time," she said, turning around and meeting his eyes. "He thinks I am planning to write about post war Europe."

"How could he possibly…"

"We were in the library and he found me reading up on Albania. I had to think of something fast. I hope you didn't give him Riddle's Wizarding name."

"No, that is something he will learn within the first week at Hogwarts. He was looking for wizards that had fought in the Muggle war."

"Severus," she said, returning to the table. "I want to write about him. Not about the horrors or the war, but about him. I want to find out why it happened. _Why_ he became the psychopath he was. Was he born that way? Was he so greatly abused himself that he lost his humanity? I have the time now to find out. That is if I can continue to stay here."

"Of course." He shifted in his chair.

"If you want us to move just say so."

"No, it is …no."

"You're sure? Because if you want your house back I …"

"I have been offered a summer position at Hogwarts. Since I am no longer tied to this house I am free to take it."

"Then I can get started in earnest. All I need to do is find a publisher."

"You may find the market full. There are several books on the market since the war ended. Several recount his time between the two wars."

"That's what I mean…between the wars, or from just before the first. Not like this. I've seen what's out there and they have the same premise which is nothing more than a regurgitation of known facts. I want to take a different approach. I don't see him as evil through conscience thought…not in the _traditional _sense. He didn't have that kind of mind…or heart. He didn't wake up one day and decide to turn to the dark arts. Was he born that way? Was he made that way as a child? I am putting this poorly…I know that. I want to find out the why. I want to explain how he was able to convince people to follow him and why they did it. Logical, basically good people."

"Do you forget whom you speak to?"

"No…you were good, Severus. You were young. He knew what to say, what to promise to get your loyalty. He used you and every one else. I want to know _how_ he did it. What did he say to you to make them trust him? I can understand you…at the age you were and by your own admission rather lost at the prospect of leaving Hogwarts and with no real home. But… how about the others? What did he say to his original followers? What did he say to Yaxley? A man his senior. A man a hundred …a thousand times richer, with better bloodlines and a fierce fighter. What did he say to convince him and others like him? What did he say to the Malfoys? Lucius' father? To the generation before …what did he find to compel them to sacrifice their sons?

In your own words, you came from an abusive household. After Hogwarts, you could not very easily return here, to Spinner's End. You had top grades but not the financial resources to survive an apprentice program. He paid for it, didn't he? He convinced you…"

"This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation." He stood stiffly and collected his outer robes. "I am sure you remembered the last time you spoke so freely with your son upstairs."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, following him to the door. "I should have presented this differently and you're right. Now is not the time. It sounds as if I am …digging up your past and that is not my intention. I'm sorry…I shouldn't have brought it up. I just can't believe a simplistic story about his mother using a love potion."

"In doing so you will uncover all his followers. Make sure you are ready for the truth. Make sure that when you find your rapists name you can handle the knowledge."

"I only intend to cover his life up to the first war. From that point, everything is well known. So no, Severus, I have no intention and no desire to know the extent of this …this list of names you seem allude to. You know many of his followers didn't wear a mark. Even if I wanted to know, which I most assuredly do not, a list of his chosen few would be of no use."

"I would think your unwillingness to face the aftermath of the war would extend to your wanting to forget all of it. Do not expect sympathy from those you seek. They too are attempting to forget and move beyond what happened."

"Good night, Severus. I shouldn't have mentioned it until I had more prepared to show you. Perhaps another time?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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**Hermione's Son**

** Chapter 9**

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Only two days after Hugh left for Hogwarts Hermione was already regretting her decision to let him go. She wished she had convinced him that going to Hogwarts was a waste of time and that she could home school him. Finding the silence of the house unnerving, she turned on his CD player before she went downstairs each morning just to add background noise. After two weeks, she was grabbing crackers and opening tins of soup at meal times, no longer fixing balanced meals or planning trips to the grocery to keep the pantry stocked. Her only release from the monotonous days was working on her book or scrubbing the still clean floors.

After three weeks, she found a row of shops within walking distance and bought a pair of trainers. Once again, she ran every morning, feeling the familiar sense of despair descending on her. Having learned long ago to keep busy, not let the darkness overpower her, she forced herself to be physically as well as mentally exhausted in hopes of keeping the wolves at bay.

She discovered a trail that followed a river not far from the house, which soon became her favourite place to run. Despite the difference in surroundings, factories where open spaces had been, it reminded her of the Huron River she had run beside in the States. The flowing water, throwing back prisms of sun light calmed her as the rhythm of her feet and the burning muscles from her strides let her forget her past.

Since having a conversation with Hugh, about what he would experience at Hogwarts, it was harder not let her mind wander to images of Hogwarts. She had sent Raven off to Diagon for a copy of _Hogwarts, A History_, chagrined that she had not retained a single copy and ordered a subscription from the Daily Prophet. She let Hugh read the book before she spoke to him and was relieved that his questions centred more on Quidditch and outside activities than the time she had spent there. What she added to his otherwise limited knowledge was a simplified story of the Order of the Phoenix and its part in the war. She minimized her part and skimmed over her friendship with Harry and, as she put it, another student.

Warning him that he would hear rumours and that he should ask her or take his concerns to Professor Snape she had waved him off. As a first-year, she knew he would hear a little of what had gone before. However, she hoped the younger students were still as sheltered as she had been. Rather, she had thought with a grimace, as sheltered as she would have been if she had not met Potter.

By the fourth week, she was already looking forward to the holidays and began lists of what she needed to do. Never having planned on holiday meals, shopping and decorating he house she was surprised as the list grew longer and longer. Pushing the list away, she glanced around the sitting room and wondered how it could ever look festive. It was times like this, when her memories flooded back on her. Memories of her Mum and Dad the Christmases they had shared. Trudging up the stairs in her effort to keep busy and forget, she began scrubbing the bath and sorting the cupboards.

Hermione saw a blur pass the window, then heard the familiar tapping of an owl on the kitchen window and all but broke her neck running down the stairs. Jumping over the last four steps in her hurry to get to it, she landed hard, her feet sliding out from under her, landing flat on her back as a rush of air exploding out of her lungs.

"Fuck," she wheezed, grabbing the banister and pulling herself up she limped into the kitchen. "Hold on! Christ, you can see I'm coming."

Yanking up the sash, she ripped the parchment from the owl and angrily pushed it away. "Forget it," she muttered. "You want to eat? Catch something. Trust me…there are a lot of mice around here."

Opening the envelope she was distracted the tap, tap, tap that came again. "Sorry, go away until I get a cage or…just go away…go back." She slammed the window down and hobbled to the table, her chest hurting worse that it had in recent years. Laying the letter on the table, she smoothed it out to read.

_Hi Sis,_

_Professor Snape said the owls name is Raven. That's a stupid name for a owl but I didn't say nothing. I remembered what you said abut manners, that and he takes points ._

_Guess what? I got in Slytherin. It's neat and the rooms don't have windows or nothing. I' m supossed to write six inches home that's why I am writing so big. It is hard with no lines and some old lady said not to waste parchment cause it costs so much and some animal died for it but I don't think its that kind of parchment. If it is, I want real paper. _

Hermione put her hand over the left side of her chest as the pain from her back radiated around her side and began to throb. Smiling at Hugh's attempt to write his first letter home without his spell checker she made a mental note to send him a personal dictionary. Guessing that the _old lady_ was Minerva, she couldn't help smiling.

_Professor Snape acts mean here and told me that when I am in school I'm not Granger's spoiled little brother. I don't know what he means but he said if my name gets in the paper he'll take points even if they are from his own house. _

_We got a feather but mine didn't move too good. I think it was cuz I got a bad feather. If you get a letter from the old lady tell her I was just in the owl tower to get a new one. _

_Hugh. _

Hermione grinned as she carefully folded the letter and slid it into her pocket wondering what he was doing in the owlery that he wanted to hide. She put on a pot of tea and pushed two pieces of bread into the toaster. Waiting for the water to heat, she made her way back up stairs and changed from her running clothes to a pair of jeans and a tee, removing her bra in hopes of relieving the pressure. Her damned chest hurt. It had been years since it had bothered her and the sudden reminder or how it had hurt before sickened her. This was more than a sudden slam of a seat belt that had bothered her for a while just that summer. This time she felt the pain building. Throwing the toast into the sink, she sat holding her cup in both hands wondering where the bloody hell she had put the scotch.

The next morning the owl was back. Pecking and tilting its head as it watched her through the window with large unblinking eyes. It continued until she threw a flannel at the glass, hoping it would scare the bird away for good. On the third morning, she tried to lift the sash and chase it off but was unable to raise her left arm high enough to be of any use and could only swat at the glass as it continued to hoot at her.

She decided to try a Muggle remedy, thinking it may help. Since the pain in her back was from a fall and not a magical curse, she hoped it was different this time and would respond. The short excursion to the grocery took most of her strength and she knew she had lost the battle to act normally when she opened the aspirin bottle and downed a handful in the shop's aisle.

"Headache," she said as she paid, still chewing the small bitter pills, earning a look of disgust from the clerk.

By the time she made it back home, clutching the small bottle of aspirin, beads of sweat were sprinkled across her forehead and she was finding it difficult to breath.

"Those are useless as you well know," Snape said from his position where he stood leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen as she dumped another handful of the small pills into the palm of her hand.

"I take back everything I said about this being your house. You need to knock." She crammed the pills in her mouth and leaned down to drink directly from the spigot.

"What did you do?"

"I fell. I hit my back but it's my chest. It hurts like bloody hell."

He crossed the room and lifted the back of her tee seeing bruises across her shoulder blades and peaking out from below her waistband. "Raven came back again. I thought I should check on the reason. Now, undo your trousers."

"I will do nothing of the…"

"I cannot heal what I cannot see. Now do it." He smirked as she used her right hand to lower the zipper and when he heard the sound of a snap opening, he tugged her jeans down enough to inspect her lower back and hips. Using his wand and muttering an incantation, he healed the lower regions, which had an ugly dark patch on each hip and running up from the small of her back. He pulled her jeans up and started working on her shoulder blades noting the lack of a bra, knowing that by her quick acquiescence to his demands the pain must be greater than he had thought.

"I am guessing that your discomfort results from back spasms that are tensing your muscles and spreading. You are still going to be sore for a few days."

"It must be. I fell flat," she said with a deep sigh at the absence of most of the pain. "That feels better…thanks."

"Now sit and let me see the front."

"No," she turned and shook her head. "It is quite alright. What brought you here?"

"I will tell you after we finish this."

"It is finished. If it gets worse I will see a healer."

"Certainly you do not expect me to believe that. Eating aspirin for lunch is much more your style. I may not be a healer; however, I assure you that I am better at it than you are at lying." He nodded to her chest and saw her hand fisting the material over her left side. "Miss….Hermione, I know what happened and I have seen your scar."

"Not like this," she said, swallowing hard. "Not after what they did at St. Mungo's."

"I would assume they removed tissue to …"

"Yes," she said evenly and turned back to the sink. "I was going to make a pot of tea."

"Tea? Does it go well with the alcohol I smell on you?"

"Shut up, Snape. It helps…and yes…very well indeed. Whiskey makes a great tonic if you add a little honey and lemon as well."

"For the short term. Now, I will ask you again to sit or I will bind you."

Hermione turned back to face him, her eyes searching his face as her own welled with tears. "It's …ugly."

"So are my scars yet I see them every day." He gently took the hem of the shirt waiting until she nodded and turned her head away before he exposed only the left side of her chest. His eyes snapped to her face then back down as he tried to cover his surprise.

"I told you," she said softly, her voice choking, keeping her head turned away from his.

"I expected it to be worse the way you carried on. My first years do better," he muttered, trying to cover up his shock that they had completely removed her left breast. Quickly healing the swollen tissue he heard her sigh as the pain disappeared and pulled her shirt down, stepping back as he did.

"Thanks," she said, turning back to the teapot, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't want you drinking for a couple of days. It dilates the blood vessels and…"

"Fine. Can we not talk about it?"

"I have a potion that was developed after your surgery. It will perm…"

"Fine. Send it. Just shut up for now. I don't want to discuss this with you."

"Hermione, please, if you had sought medical treatment at once this would not have happened. You must accept what …"

"I know. I spent three years in therapy. Remember? I was made painfully ware that I was making this into more than I should. The healer kept telling me that it didn't make me less of a woman. That I should be glad to be alive. What he forgot to say is that…never mind. Just…I think it's better now so I'll be able to keep after Raven."

"What he forgot to say was what?" Snape asked evenly, sitting down at the table.

"That men don't like mutilated women." She slid two cups on the table. "No milk. I couldn't carry it and the delivery won't be here for a couple of hours yet."

"You are obviously talking about ignorant boys. No man would…"

"You want a list of names? Now, what about the tea?"

"Black is fine," he said, not knowing how to respond to her statement and feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "As I explained, I came to inquire about Raven."

"Yes, well…she…it is a she? Yes? She came at the wrong time."

"There is a coup in the yard, and there used to be a cage in the attic. Unless your recent cleaning rampage has taken you that far it should still be there. She will need to be housed inside when the weather changes."

"Oh, I got the letter from Hugh. I hear you are now forcing them to write home." She grinned thinly, darting her eyes to his, only to look away again. "I haven't written back yet...things came up. I'll send one off in the morning."

"You also need to keep your wand close. If an emergency such as this comes up again you need to contact someone in our world."

"Can't let it go can you?" She quipped, finally able t look at him over the rim of her cup. "I know I have to get used to it again for the sake of Hugh, and yes I know in case of an emergency it would be useful. However, I have survived until now without the need of one."

"When was the last time you apparated, or used your magic?"

"Knowingly? The day I left Hogwarts." She leaned back and looked at him a long time as silence spun between them. "You remind me of my healer. He asked me questions and sat, waiting for me to talk. I hate to tell you this, but I can out wait the best."

"Unknowingly?"

"They say I _threw _things at the nurses in the hospital."

"Inborn magic does that. If you perceive a threat, even in a near comatose state, your natural magic takes over to protect you."

"Now that we have discussed my medical treatment can we move on?"

"Yes, we were discussing Raven."

"We finished that." She stood up and put her cup in the sink. "Listen, I need to sleep. I haven't been able to do more than nod off since I fell. I think I can now. I would love to sit and talk…but I'm dead on my feet and in case you haven't noticed I get rather bitchy when I'm tired."

"I quite agree," Snape stood and started to the door.

"Are you saying I look that bad or that I'm acting like a bitch?" she asked with a thin smile.

"Miss Granger, even the densest man would know not to answer that."

"Thanks." She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Don't act so surprised. I hug…I even kiss on occasion. Thanks for putting up with me, Severus, not many would. Let me sleep then we can talk. Right now, I'm just going to say something I shouldn't. "

He watched her climb the stairs, understanding her behaviour since he had arrived was from lack of sleep and pain, still not trusting that was all it was. He waited until for a few minutes to make sure she was in bed before opening the cupboard under the sink and pulling out the bin. Finding a broken wand and empty whiskey bottles, he confirmed his suspicions. Returning the container under the sink, he went to the yard to ready the coup for Raven.

The next morning, Hermione was in the kitchen having just finished a letter to Hugh when the sound of footfalls came down the stairs. Grabbing a knife, her eyes large with fear, she turned to the sitting room in time to see Snape walk into the kitchen.

"You scared the bloody hell out of me," she breathed, throwing the knife on the counter and finishing tying the missive around Raven's leg. "I didn't know you were here. You spent the night?"

"I did not mean to startle you. I am free from weekend duty and wanted to make sure the healing did not need to be repeated."

"No, its fine, like you said I'm just a little sore. I don't believe I slept the afternoon and the night away. I can't remember the last time I did that. Hungry? I was just going to fix something."

"I thought we could stop at the Cauldron."

Hermione stopped and studied his face, wondering what he was doing. "I _can_ cook you know."

"I found your wand along with three empty bottles. I assumed you needed a new one."

"A bottle or a wand?" She said as she began cracking eggs. "The pain was so bad I tried to drink it away. I haven't done that for ages…not since…since my mum died I guess. It's not a habit. I want you to know that. Not anymore. And I don't like your spying on me."

"And the wand?"

"You're right. I should replace it. I should be able to send Raven and order it. After all, I know the wood, core and length."

"Why did you snap it?"

"I didn't. I know what it sounds like…but truly…I fell on it. I had it in my waistband. And no, I'm not lying. I was working up my nerve to use it."

"If you had the habit of carrying it I may believe…" He stopped and merely nodded, remembering the bruises.

"I want to know how Hugh is doing. Is he making friends?"

"He…I imagine so."

"You don't know?" She slid his plate in front of him and sat at the table with her own. "Does he sit with the same people at meals or always someone different?"

Seeing his blank expression, she rolled her eyes and laid her hand on his. "It's important. He is too trusting and a little easily swayed. Can't you remember whom you've seen him with? Who does he walk to lessons with?"

"Would you be as worried if he were not in Slytherin?"

"Yes." She poked at her eggs resting her head on her hand. "At least I think so. Yes…no…this is a trick question. I don't know. I don't have a lot of experience at this mother thing."

His soft chuckle made her lift her head and look at him, her own smile not far behind. "Okay, the Cauldron for lunch. You buy," she said, grinning. "How about next Saturday? I'm not going any where looking like this."

"My pleasure, Miss Granger."

"In the mean time, I want to convince you that you completely misunderstood what I was trying to explain about the book I'm writing. I'll give you my rough outline. I've finished it, along with a list of people I want to try to contact…or ask their relatives if they left any written records. If I promise not to use names, just number them as case studies, they may agree." She hurried to the sitting room and returned with a journal and a notebook, which she put on the table between them. "I've been on the internet for days. I know it's grasping at straws that I will find anyone that way. I had hoped that one of the archived newspapers would turn something up. It's amazing what you can find."

"I will not take part in and endeavour to make him into less than he was. If you…"

"No," she laid her hand over his again. "That's not it. Please...just listen. If he was …heartless…because of some potion his mother took, why was it never a known side effect? Potion makers have been brewing it for years. Don't you think they …or a healer or…someone…would have been born like him before?"

"Have you forgotten Gellert Grindelwald? The Dark Lord was not the first wizard to try to control this world by killing everyone that disagreed with him."

"Perhaps I need to go back…back to his time as well. If Dumbledore was correct in his assumption, and we both know it was only his assumption, that a potion caused him to be so completely and utterly evil, it would stand to reason that Grindelwald's mother used it also."

"If such information was written, which I highly doubt, it would be almost impossible to discover."

"Given the life expectancy of wizards I have to disagree. Potioniers, like Healers, keep records. This may be the last chance we have. In a few years, yes, you will be correct but there is still time."

"An Interesting turn of phrase."

"What?"

"The last chance _we_ may have. Tell me, please, who is this _we_ you speak of?"

"Me and…and…" she stammered.

"No."

"What happens if there is another one right now? That's why this is important. We have to find out if it was the potion and if so do something about it... and if not, which I suspect…at least warn people. Let them know how it happened. Let them be on the look out for the next. It's not good enough to say 'because he wanted power' or 'he was evil'. Those things happened after he was already on his way to corrupt our world."

"Another interesting phrase, _our world_."

She explained that she wanted information she could only secure from people that had known him at a young age. Going over the fact that she was still drawing a blank, and having problems finding documented information, she had thought there might be hints in the old Tom Riddle files. Then, asking questions that skirted around Snape's involvement with the Death Eaters, she was finally able to hone in on what she wanted. Explaining that she could not hope to understand the man without understanding the boy, she saw him raise his eyebrow and look at her quizzically.

"I want his school records," she said, locking her eyes on his. "I want to know what he was like. Truly like. We all know what Dumbledore thought. How did he know? Or, was he just…guessing? Did he ever feel the same way about others? Don't try to convince me that he found a scared hurt boy that could talk Parslemouth and assumed he was going to be the next Dark Wizard. What did he know? I want to start with his admission forms, any physical exams they gave new students, and …"

Snape held up his hand and silenced her. "His records have been moved. Not only were they thoroughly gone over during the war in hopes of gaining information, but the Ministry has since made a concerted effort to stop curiosity seekers from over running the school."

"I don't mean his official records. I want the teacher's files…his class work. I think it would be telling to see what they had to say about him and if any of his essays survived…to see into his mind. You said Filch kept a file that is still at Hogwarts. What about before him? Was there a caretaker that gave him the idea to keep track of students?

The orphanage he grew up in closed years ago, his caretakers long dead. Even the other kids would be gone by now. Why did he keep going back there in the summer? Why would they keep taking him? Severus, there are too many _whys_ to let this go."

"I agree as do many of the staff members that it is time to stop this fascination with what has happened," Snape said quietly. "There are families that are unjustly maligned because a member turned to the dark side. I am sure if you were a Goyle or a Nott, you would understand that better. Not all were on the dark side."

"Some whole families were," she said softly. "Anyway, I don't plan on mentioning anyone by name. I'll present a series of case studies. Medical texts are written that way…I know I can do it."

"I see. Tell me, when I read of a young student, befriended by the most evil monster this world has seen in many years, one that treated him as a son to gain his allegiance, should we pretend we don't know who it is? Should I forget the work it has taken to clear my name and tell Minerva that once again she must put off retirement because I can no longer teach or advance in my position?"

"Severus, no. I never intended that, never. Once the first war began, everything was already set in motion. We need to go back before that. Before he returned to England. What happened in Albania? What happened before that? What happened to him that made him kill an old lady to steal her treasures? He was already planning this when he was a student here, long before you were born. What caused it? Remember, he spoke to Slughorn about what he was thinking.

I don't want this to come between us. I would appreciate if you went over my notes before you make your decision and if it is no… I'll never bring it up again."

"Short of gagging you I doubt that statement," he said dryly, pulling her notepad and journal in front of him.

"Shut up, _Professor Snape. _" She swatted his arm laughing. "Just read it."

Hearing a knock at the front door, she started to the sitting room. "That was fast. The grocer said it would take hours. We can have biscuits with that tea now."

Throwing the door open her smile slipped from her face. "Harry. I…how did you know where to find me?"

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"Oh, Harry." She threw her arms around his neck and buried her head into his neck.

"I'm in licensing and regulations this month. I just saw the list of wands registered to the new Hogwarts students." He hugged her in return, only releasing her when she pulled against him.

"I wanted to see you so many times. I can't tell you how I missed you but I had no idea how to reach you." Hermione reached out and laid her hand on his cheek. "I thought you still hated me and wouldn't want to see me anymore."

"I was worried _you_ wouldn't want to see _me_. I knew if you were coming back it would be when your son started Hogwarts… so I waited."

"Brother." She looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen, biting her lip. "Tea? We were just having a cup. Join us?"

"Us? Umm…sure." He followed her into the next room coming to a halt at the doorway. "Professor."

"Potter." Severus nodded in greeting as he stood. "Miss Granger, thank you for sharing your research. I will get back with you once I have had a chance to read it."

Harry watched as they said goodbye and exchanged pleasantries keeping his silence until the door had closed and Hermione turned back to him. "I thought he still lived up at the school during term. Isn't he still Head of House?"

"Yes…yes he is. He was here to collect some work I've been doing. Do you still take your tea the same way?"

"Yeah, same as always. I was surprised to see Snapes address on Hugo's registration card. How long have you been living here."

"I had to sell Mum and Dad's house and I must say I have never had such a hard time finding a place. In the States I always found something the first day out…here…with no car…it was almost impossible to find something suitable. We moved here this summer, just before the letters came out."

"Why here?"

"I was working at the Institute, just north of here and needed something close to the train in an area Hugh could go out in. Enough about me…what have you been up to? I want to hear everything!"

"You're working at Harrington? I've heard bad things about them. You know, falsified testing and…"

"Was…was working for them." She joined him at the table carrying two cups of steaming hot tea. "I had a difference of opinion with my boss. He thought I should sleep with him and I disagreed. A simple matter really."

"I'm surprised you didn't hex him." Harry laughed, stopping when he saw her look of surprise. "Sorry."

"We were kids, Harry. I hope we've both learned not to use magic as easily as we once did."

"So…now you are living with Snape?"

"No, I am staying at a house he was kind enough to let me use. I happened to run into him," she said, laughing at the memory of their car accident. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"The signature on the receipt for the wand was Snape's."

"He took Hugh for his supplies."

"That's strange, don't you think? Snape doing something like that?"

"No. Harry, all that was a long time ago. We've grown up and he doesn't have to hide his every move and thought from Riddle or bow to Dumbledore. It makes a difference. He's… different now. He's changed…and I guess I have too."

"People don't just change. Anyway, I was just curious." Harry set his cup down, leaned back and studied Hermione's face. "Usually it's a parent that buys a student their first wand. Strange it was Snape."

"Meaning what?" She slammed her cup down on the table and glared at him.

"Only that before the final battle you were helping him brew, spending a lot of time with him. If the two of you…"

"That's enough." She stood and walked to the back door, yanking it open. "If this is all you came for it's late and I'm tired."

"No, I wasn't going to mention any of that until I saw Snape was here. Hermione, I wasn't passing judgement. I know he isn't what we all …well, what Ron and I thought at least. You always stuck up for him. If he took advantage of a student, bloody hell, it's not too late to make him step up to his responsibility."

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare ever say that again! Call me what you want, but don't ever cast aspersions on him! He almost died saving us. This whole damned world was against him…most of it still is because of stupid rumours like that."

"If anyone knows that it's me. I spoke for him at the trials you know. I defended him," Harry grumbled. "I'd like to see Hugo. I argued with your Dad over wanting to take him. He should have been raised in …"

"You arrogant, spoiled, holier than thou, self appointed saviour! What the bloody hell would you do if someone came to your door and said they wanted one of your children? You idiot! How did you think he would take it?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Harry spat back. "I told Ginny about Hugo…not that he was yours, only that your parents had adopted a boy that…"

"And of course she agreed that the poor little dear would be better off with her."

"He would have!"

Hermione sighed and pulled the door open wider. "I'm not fighting about this. Just leave. Leave and don't you dare try to contact him. If you do, I'll take him away. I thought you came to see me…not to fight about this again. My gods, it's been years. Let it go."

"I wanted to help." Harry stopped in front of her on his way out. "I didn't come here to have a row. I wanted to see you."

"You didn't come here as a friend. A friend wouldn't do this," she said, feeling the sting of tears. "This is why I haven't sought you out. This. Now go. Just go."

'


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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I wanted to get this one up before the holiday. Merry Christmas to all and may God bless and keep you and yours safe.

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 10**

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Saturday came and with it Hermione's trip to Diagon Alley. Once she and Severus arrived at the apparation point, he stepped back and released her, watching her reaction as she looked around the Alley. He stood waiting quietly as she slowly turned in each direction before turning back to him and trying to smile. Taking a step closer, she reached out and took his arm.

"It looks the same," she said in an almost whisper. "I thought that after the war it would look differently."

"It was decided that all repairs must keep to the original design," he said as they began walking along the pavement. "The changes are those you cannot see. Reinforced walls, extra beams in the roofs, all things to strengthen the structures but to keep in the original design. When it was discovered that magical wards alone could not protect the buildings, Muggle methods were used as well."

"Is the wand shop in the same place? I want to go there directly before I lose my nerve."

"Yes, it is now owned by a Matilda Dippet. You will find that although there are many new owners the shops remain the same."

"Of Headmaster Dippet's family?"

"She married one of his grandsons. She herself is a great niece to the original owner."

"Gringotts looks different," she said, nodding to the exterior façade of the corner building. "The additional columns by the door are rather pretentious."

"Yes." He smirked and looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. "The customers now walk between them, rather like a Muggle metal detector. However, these columns are spelled to verify identity. There are several other security measures in place since a certain break in several years ago. I also have heard, but cannot confirm, that the security measures in the lower levels no longer include dragons. You will find like precautions installed at the Ministry."

"Oh," she said, looking away from him and the building, feeling a blush starting on her cheeks. "My gracious, the Weasley's shop has grown much bigger."

"It seems no matter how bad things are the public still demands jokes," he said, a look of contempt covering his face.

"Stop. That's a good thing, Severus. I remember on some days that the only bright spot was one of their jokes. You have to admit, the twin's last day in school will go down as one of the best days of pre-war Hogwarts. You should have seen Umbridge's face."

"Granted. I am afraid, however, I only caught the brunt of her wrath."

"I never thought of that," she mused, looking up at him. "None of us ever thought how the staff was affected."

"It has been my experience that students do well to think of the consequences to themselves until their later years. I have yet to meet an eleven year old that would find chasing mountain trolls dangerous."

"The Cauldron you said? I changed my mind. We should eat first," she laughed, surprised but happy when he took her hand and tucked it back into the crook of his elbow.

They sat for over two hours, eating and talking. She told him of what she had left behind in the States, her third floor walk up and the quick pace of the hospital where she had been doing her internship. He listened quietly as she talked, offering little information of himself despite her questions and gentle prodding. He spoke only of Hogwarts and the continued experiments on her insightful cooling techniques. She tried to get him to talk of his childhood, his life at Spinner's End, only to hear him side step every question she laid out.

When the conversation turned to Hugh, she was surprised to hear Severus' assessment of her performance as a replacement for the only parents the boy had known. Feeling a slow blush spread up her neck as he actually praised her on Hugh's preparation for Hogwarts, she tried to wave off his words.

"He needs to develop study skills. However, the Muggle children are always fall behind the first year. Once the wonder disappears and they begin to study, it is my experience that they out perform the children raised with magic. I have always thought it was their reading skills and mat skills that help them."

"I miss him," she said honestly, resting her head on her hand. "When I first came home I couldn't wait for him to leave. I was scared to death of him. I only wanted him gone so I could go back to the States."

"And now?"

"I could never leave him now."

"That is understandable. Even he was your brother it would be reasonable for you to form a strong attachment to him."

"I had to do rotation in different areas of the hospital. A couple of months in maternity, the I.C.U., one in Obstetrics. There was a girl, thirteen. She had been raped by her stepfather and not reported it until she found out she was pregnant. I think it was a good thing she was as young as she was...not that the rape was a good thing but that an abortion was an easy choice for her and her mother. If she had been older…what would she have done? What if it had been a stranger that raped her and she was old enough to make her own decision? I know I couldn't have kept it. I would have done the same thing. Only…I _didn't_ know. I didn't know anything. Now, when I think that I could have done that…" she sighed deeply and looked up at him. "I don't believe I am telling you this."

"It would have been your choice, one no one would have faulted you for making," he said, his expression unchanging.

"Yes they would have. There are people that would have thought I was the monster," she sighed deeply, and shook her head. "I would have hated him. I know I would have. I couldn't have let a rapist's baby grow inside me. I would still be in St. Mungo's. I only know how I felt not even remembering all of it. I couldn't even tell the healer everything." She fell silent, lost in thought. "Now, Hugh hates me. Oh…he still talks to me as his sister but underneath it all, there is this …this question …this rage at me. What happens when he gets older? What happens then?"

"I am sure you will find a way to deal with him. That or his anger will be redirected and defused. I can tell you from experience not to assume a child judges us as we judge ourselves."

"Did you think Harry judged you for the death of his parents?" She saw his face become unreadable and hard, whereas only a moment ago he had seemed open and concerned. "I shouldn't have asked that."

"It would have been quite natural for him to do so if he had learned of it as a child. I believe it was only the treatment that he received at his Uncle's hands that enabled him to see me as other than their murderer as he grew older."

"I would think it the opposite. That his upbringing would have made him much angrier."

"He learned the difference between malice and mistakes."

"And Hugh? How will he see me? He was raised in a much different home. He was loved."

"That, you will not know for several years. As it happened, it was years before Potter and I could carry on a conversation without anger."

"Hugh likes you. I think that's why he is so happy in Slytherin." She sat and studied him as he frowned at her words. "Do you always assume everyone dislikes you? You did it with Harry and with me because I was his friend. I'll be the first to admit that …the way you watched us …you were awful…not just awful you were a complete and utter bully." She smiled weakly seeing the look of surprise on his face. "I know now all the horrid things you did had a reason, but at the time we all wanted to push you into the lake without gillyweed."

"Potter is, and will always be, a pompous self absorbed dunderhead. He did not earn his fame and as such, holds no honour in what he was forced to do."

"He defeated the Dark Lord," she scowled. "He did a lot more than you give him credit for."

"On the graves of those that went before him."

"Can we not talk about this? We'll never agree on it." Hermione asked, waiting to see his slight nod of consent.

Finishing their lunch, they returned to their slow walk down the pavement. She was mostly silent, uncomfortable by the looks the many of the passersby gave her.

"What about you, Severus? Do you ever regret not leaving? Surly you must have considered it."

"Yes I did." he talked quietly, his free hand laying over hers as he strolled next to her. "However, unlike you I had no connections to the Muggle world and no way of securing an education that could support me. I originally held onto Spinner's End thinking someday I would return there. I still might after I am finished at Hogwarts."

"You have years to go before retirement. Look at Minerva. That should give you a long time to purchase a house here. Even if you return to a Muggle life style you could afford much better."

"I will have nothing to hold me and I find the solitude of Spinner's End…desirable."

"I remember thinking I would never leave," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Now I am the one gone and you…who had thought of leaving are still here. It's strange how things work out."

"You are still young enough to start over. There are several positions you are qualified to hold. In addition, with your Muggle education in medicine, it would be a very short step to become a Healer."

"I thought of that. It would mean living here…not just working in the Alley or at one of the potion shops near a Muggle city. I don't know if I am ready for that. And look whose talking," she said laughing. "With our life expectancy you still have a lifetime to do all the things you've missed. Have you ever regretted not having a family? You would make a terrific father."

"I am afraid I am well beyond that."

"Nonsense. With the war over and your place in it known, your position in Hogwarts, your Order of Merlin…I am surprised you don't have witches on a waiting list. Quite the catch you are."

"I may say the same thing to you. With your famous name, _your_ Oder of Merlin…"

"Fine," she said, laughing and swatting his hand, "I get it. But…haven't you ever wanted…you know…someone to talk with? To share your life with?"

"Here we are," he said, pulling the door to the wand shop open, leaving her question unanswered.

Hermione was almost disappointed to see the perfectly organized rows of shelves and neatly stacked wands so different from what she had seen on her first visit. Giving her name and wand type, Mrs. Dippet referred to a card catalogue to find her wand's match. With a flick and swish, it was apparent the new wand was suited to her.

"There you are, Dear. As good as the last."

Looking down at the bill Hermione blanched. "I hope you take Muggle currency."

"No need," Mrs. Dippet looked at her strangely, glancing over Hermione's head to Snape. "Just affix your signature and Gringotts will make the transfer."

"I closed my…" Hermione started when Mrs. Dippet pulled a scrap of parchment over to her that had been in the same box as the wand and instructed her to hold her wand over it. Soon, it gave off an iridescent yellow light as the balance of her vault appeared.

"Miss Granger," Snape leaned down and spoke into her ear. "You were aware of your monthly stipend?"

"What stipend?" She snapped her eyes to his, now only inches from her own.

"Your Order of Merlin…it comes with a stipend for your services to the Ministry."

"That's mine?" Hermione examined the slip then shoved a handful of Muggle money at Mrs. Dippet. "No, take this. I'll be back for it when I have the rest. I can come Monday when the banks open."

"Miss Granger, I can assure you that you have ample funds to…"

"No, I don't want it!" Hermione threw her money on the counter and fled the shop. Hugging her pocketbook to her chest and keeping her head down she began to walk to the apparation point.

"Miss Granger!" Snape called as he hurried to catch her. "This is not the Muggle world. They do not work on credit here."

"I won't use that money."

"Take this," he said, holding out her wand. "You may pay me back. We can make arrangements if the cost is too…"

"No. You keep it until I have the money. I'll not have this hanging over my head. I do not owe any _man_ anything and I am not starting with you. How dare you interfere…how dare you treat me like a common trollop paying for…"

He grabbed her arm to hold her still while he shoved her Muggle currency into her pocket, a look of fury on his face. "I assume with your expertise in trains you can get yourself home. I will not, will not, I repeat, be accused of taking advantage of you or any witch. If I wanted a whore I can find one for far less than the price of a wand."

Hermione yanked her arm away from him, stumbling backwards. She felt the uneven stones under her feet and for a moment smelled burning wood and heard the clash hexes hitting shields. All but running back through the Leaky Cauldron, feeling dark hooded cloaks closing in on her, she found a taxi and took it to the station. Not able to take a deep breath until she was sitting safely on the train, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes steadying her breath as she fought to regain her composure.

It was close to midnight before she made it to Spinner's End. Playing the scene with Snape over in her head, she knew she had reacted in fear and anger. However, the thought of using money, paid because of her part in a blood battle had brought the memory of Ron to her, blocking any ability of reason. Grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, paying no attention to the lateness of the hour, she sat down to write an apology, not knowing how to begin.

_Dear Professor Snape;_

She leaned back and considered the salutation, then took a fresh paper to start again.

_Professor Snape;_

_Please forgive my outburst today._

She started at the paper and tried to find a way to explain what had driven her on. Surely, a letter of only one sentence would not suffice. If the anger on his face had shown her anything, it had shown that grovelling would be in order.

Still, unable to think of what else to say, she signed the missive with a formal _Miss Granger _and called Raven. She was not surprised, only sorely disappointed, when the only delivery she got back from Hogwarts the next afternoon was from Hugh. She smiled and sat down to read what he had to say, rather excited to have received another letter so soon.

_Sis_

_I am fine. How are you? I have to write six inches again but something happened. __so__ I thought if I told you about it I __may__ might get six inches __easy__. _easily_. Snape said you always did more than what he asked for and said it was nice to see I didn't and gave me five points._

_Headmistress McGonagall and Snape were yelling at each other. We all heard it and it was __real _really_ funny. I didn't believe anyone would yell at him. She said he was a cad and he should be shamed and he should get his…you know..his bum back there. Right outside in the hallway where we all herd it. It was neat even if we didn't know where he was supposed to get back to but I don't think he went cuz we had lessons all day._

_That's only five inches. I asked Frank what a cad was and he said it was being mean to a witch so what was she upset about cuz Snape was just acting normal. I said no cuz he was nice to you then they all laughed at me and said I was nutters so I told them I was joking._

_I got the dictionary. _

_Hugh._

She buried her head in her hands, not certain if she should laugh or cry, deciding instead to send off another letter. Resisting her urge to correct Hugh's spelling and grammar, despite his feeble attempts, she began her second letter to Severus.

_Snape;_

_I should have explained to you that the idea of accepting money for my part in a war that ended with so many lives taken seemed wrong. I should have explained myself, rather than flying into a rage. I hate to call it blood money, but at the time, and now, that is what comes to mind._

_Please forgive me._

_Granger_

After she sent it, she became focused on the kitchen window. Going as far as to move her research materials to the kitchen table and working there instead of the desk in the sitting room she repeatedly leaned over the sink to see outside. Unable to concentrate, she found herself sitting staring at the window rather than working.

"This is stupid," she muttered aloud, calling Raven she tried again.

_Snape_

_Okay, so I hurt your feelings. I understand that. I am sorry. What do I have to do? Grovel? Fine. Consider this a grovel._

_Hermione_

A week went by during which she managed to revise the outline to her book, still working in the kitchen, still watching the window. Wondering why she cared what he thought of her, she all but threw herself into her work. Still, on Tuesday morning she felt compelled to write yet another letter.

_Severus;_

_I had no right comparing you to other men I have known in my life. You have never been anything but straightforward and honest with me, never giving me a reason to question your motives or friendship. It is a sad comment that I assumed you wanted sexual favours instead of taking your offer in the spirit and compassion in which you gave it. _

_I thank you for all you have done for Hugh and me. You are the only person that has been there to help me since I have returned to the U.K. and I appreciate it more than you will ever know. I have taken advantage of your kindness, and regret what has happened. I beg your understanding, if not your forgiveness in the matter. _

_Sincerely _

_Hermione_

Sunday morning she grinned even as she felt her eyes well with tears, to read a one-word missive in Severus' scrawling scrip.

"_Forgiven"_

_**~o0o~**_

_Hugh_

_Hey kid-o, do you know I miss you? I bet there is snow on the ground at Hogwarts. We used to sneak trays out of the kitchen and use them as sleds. It was_

She stopped and grabbed a fresh sheet of paper. Now was not the time for reminiscing. That, and the memory that polished trays went a little faster than any sled Hugh would have used before and the drop off from what started as a gently slope a little sharp. Until she knew how he was coming with his spell work, she thought it best to keep the many uses of trays to herself. He would learn them soon enough.

_Hugh_

_Hey Kid-o, do you know I miss you? I keep thinking about all the times I told you to be quiet and now that it is, I want to hear you. _

_I bet there is snow on the ground up there already. _

_I can't wait until the hols to see you and have already planned a day out in London for us when I collect you at the train._

_Nick's mum said he wants you to spend some time with him and she will be more that glad to have you for an overnight. I checked the train schedule and since there is only one transfer, that you have done before, I think you are old enough to go by yourself if you take your phone with you. _

_I want to hear all about Hogwarts. Have you made many friends? Do you like charms? I think that was my favourite class in my first year. Is Binns still there? _

_Write me back, even if you don't have to. _

_Love _

_Sis_

Hermione looked at the signature and wondered if there would ever be a time he could accept her as more than his sister. She felt her eyes begin to tear and brushed her hand over them quickly as she went to the window to tie the letter to Raven's leg.

~o0o~

_Sis_

_If I come right home and not go to London, can I go see Nick straight off? I asked Snape if he would bring me and I think he said yes._

_Tomorrow I have my first flying lesson. I am the only one here that doesn't know how to fly. Alice don't know how either but that don't matter cuz she's a girl. She said she's like me but she's not. Her Mum is a squib so that counts and makes her not the bad blood thing. _

_Hugh_

_**~o0o~**_

_Hugh_

_Make sure he said yes and didn't say something like…'I am sure arrangements will be made.' I don't want to be home waiting to find out you are in London. _

_You should take your skateboard back with you after the hols. I bet your housemates can't ride it as good as you do. Brooms are easy. Once you learn you will be as good as they are in no time, but riding a skateboard takes practice. _

_Sis_

_**~o0o~**_

_Sis_

_So I asked him again and he took five points for repeating himself but yeah…he is bringing me back. _

_Hugh _

_**~o0o~**_

_Hugh_

_Sorry about the points. Don't ask him again. If I remember correctly, the next time he will up the points. Come to think of it, I don't remember him ever taking points from his own house._

_Keep up with your reading. You should have at least eight of the required reading books completed and one on either geography or earth sciences. We can pick up the rest of your textbooks when you are home._

_I wrote to St. Mungo's about working in the research division. They had an advert that said they had positions open for independent workers who only had to report once a month. I can stay here but work for them. What do you think? _

_Sis. _

_**~o0o~**_

_Sis_

_He did. This time he took 15. He said he's never had a Granger in his house before either then he took twenty for being impertinent. _

_I read almost four but they were long ones. A kid here says his uncle and you were friends but he died and that he knows Uncle Harry. He's in Ravenclaw. We sit next to each other in Potions and Snape says to stifle it every time we talk. _

_Would you still have time to watch me?_

_Hugh_

_**~o0o~**_

_Hugh_

_Can't wait to see you. Don't worry about the points. He will call on you in every lesson for the entire week just to test you now. However, he will give you points if you know the answer. Just remember, he expects you to know about what you are going to be learning, not what you have already done in class. Just the opposite of Muggle schools. Always read at least two chapters ahead. He may take points away quickly but gives them back if you do well. _

_What is almost four? Three? Spend at least an hour at night on your reading. Four, of any length is not acceptable. You still have ten days to finish up. _

_What is the name of your Ravenclaw friend?_

_Watch you? What's that? We are family. I'll always have time for you._

_Sis_

_**~o0o~**_

_Sis_

_I figured since we are in Snapes house and he don't have no family he should come to Christmas tea. So I invited him. _

_Mica borrowed my book so I didn't finish it yet. I don't want to start a new one until I finish that one._

_His Uncle's name is Dean and his name is Whitaker. Everyone calls him Wit. He is too. He's nice to sit with because he's teased about his name too._

_Hugh_

_**~o0o~**_

_Shite, _Hermione thought, looking up at the calendar before letting her eyes wander around the room. Walking into the sitting room, she scanned the dust on the bookshelves, the cluttered tables full of books and parchment and cringed when she thought of the loo with her personal items strewn about. Climbing the stairs she decided to start at the top and work her way down wondering when she had stopped scrubbing like a maniac when Hugh had first left for school.

The thought of having a houseguest for the hols, even if it was Snape, who had seen how she lived, threw her into a frenzy of scrubbing and decorating. She filled the cupboards with all of Hugh's favourite foods, wondering as she did if her own mum had done the same and wondering what kinds of food Snape enjoyed.

In a moment of weakness, she used some of the money she had put away for new trousers and two new dresses for herself. Even as she stood in front of the shop's mirror, she wondered why she was bothering and why she cared how she looked. Hugh wouldn't notice, or if he did, wouldn't care and Snape had already seen her at her worse. She turned to the side and inspected her image from all angles, making sure that her bra fit correctly under the fabric, afraid that she would not look 'normal'.

"That fits perfectly," the sales clerk said coming up behind her. "We have it in black if it is for a night out."

"No, Christmas…I thought the green."

"Red," the clerk said appraising Hermione as she walked around her. "Such a waste. Why not try it in black and let me find something else for Christmas day?"

Hermione met the clerk's eyes in the mirror and nodded her head, wondering if Snape would like it and then chided herself for even thinking she would have the opportunity to wear it or if she did, that he would care. She added a pair of black trousers, a winter coat and a new running outfit to the growing pile of clothes and arranged for delivery, for the first time thinking that shrinking spells and apparation would greatly simplify her life and regretting not taking the wand from Snape.

That night she spent hours on the internet researching her mum and dad's family tree. What she did not remember she was able to find readily enough to satisfy a young child. Although it was incomplete, she hoped Hugh would find it interesting and want more information on their family instead of dwelling on his father's. Finally done, she closed the lid to her laptop and grabbed her coat. If she were going to relearn apparation, she would do it on her own.

* * *

A/N: Will try to get up one more chapter before the end of the year. However, you know how busy this time of year is and this a little more than most.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 11**

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Hermione raced to the back door when she heard it open and Hugh's voice call out to her. With a squeal, she dropped on her knees and pulled him into her arms laughing and crying as she poured out questions quicker than he could answer. She had worried about seeing Severus for the first time since the fiasco in Diagon Alley and had wanted to make a good impression. Now, all she could do was hold on to her son, knowing as she did the impression of a grown woman in control of her emotions was fleeing out the door they had just come in.

"Stop it," Hugh whined, jerking his head towards Severus. "You want everyone to think I'm a baby? Come on, Sis, let go."

"Everyone? Everyone who? Him? He won't tell anyone. If anyone can keep a secret it's him," She laughed and gave Hugh another hug, finally feeling him squeeze her in return. "I've missed you kid."

"Yeah, I guess I missed you too." He finally admitted, pulling away from her and watching Snape from the corner of his eye, as a red blush crept up his neck. "What happened to your finger?"

"Oh, I fell out by the shed. Ripped a nail off."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, both of them," she laughed at his open interest. "And no, I'm not showing you."

"Geesh, you got to look at my foot when I stepped on glass," he muttered, ducking under her arm to get away and dragging his backpack out of the room.

"I missed him. Although I sometimes wondered why." She sighed loudly, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes. "To be honest, I've missed both of you. Thanks for bringing him home and thanks for…you know…everything. Do you have time for tea?"

"That would be most appreciated. The final day of term is hectic and I have missed my morning cup." He waved his hand over his shoes, drying them before walking farther into the room. "I will deliver Mr. Granger to the train station before my return to Hogwarts."

"Thanks, I was worried about the rain but it seems to have let up a little. I thought you may be planning to use your room over the hols."

"That is not a good idea. I had the pleasure of an unexpected visitor this morning. It seems Potter is intent on making himself known to young Mr. Granger."

"You didn't let him I hope. Hugh knows him although they have not seen each other for a couple of years now. I'd like to keep it that way."

"It is not within Hogwarts policy to release a child to other than to the…"

"What nerve!"

"His offer was merely to bring him home. I found no harm in that. However, without your prior permission …"

"Well…you don't have it. He had the gall to make some very …crude comments last time he was here. I can't believe I'm saying this. He was my best friend, now I worry about what he will say to Hugh about us and … all off it."

He leisurely took off his outer robes and put them on a hook by the door. "Concerning me?"

She saw his face darken and his shoulders stiffen. "Yes." She turned back to the sink and pretended to be busy.

"Hermione, look at me," he said, his voice quiet and low.

"I have to finish the tea. I didn't think he would take it this far and I will not give him the satisfaction of discussing this. He had no right, no right at all to make assumptions and then pass them around."

"Professor?" Hugh called as he ran back down the stairs. "We're going to miss the train!"

"Hugh, be careful. You know not to…"

"Yeah, yeah…I know." He rolled his eyes, stopping when he saw Snape's look of disapproval. "Sorry. No talking to strangers. I know the rules."

"Leave your wand." Hermione nodded to his waistband where he had it. "Hugh, this is going to be harder than you know. Nick is going to be talking about new video games, the movies he saw, what he's been doing and you can't. You can't tell him anything. He may even think you are being a little stuck-up about your new school. Just remember…he was hurt when you moved away and didn't write a letter since August. When you get back you can send me his letters and I can post them for you."

"Professor Snape said if I change my words a little it works. You know, potions is chemistry and history is a class about the classical myths and…"

"Just be careful. Not home one day and you are off again. I don't think I like this."

"Mum used to say that you ran off all the time. That you went with Uncle Harry and some mate named Ron. It had a funny name…something about rabbits."

"The Burrow, and yes, Ron lived at The Burrow. Now run along. Professor Snape wants to hurry back to Hogwarts."

"I thought you were staying," Hugh said. "I got my chess set out of the cupboard and Sis doesn't play so I …"

"Hugh," Hermione said his name with a shake of her head.

"I will speak to your sister," Snap said evenly. "If we can resolve a certain issue I may reconsider."

"Shite, so she messed it up? Cripes, what did she do this time?"

"Hugh! Language," she hissed. "You know better."

Severus stepped outside without responding, taking Hugh to the train station under a waterproof shield. He waited until the boy was on the train and it had pulled away from the station before making the familiar walk back. It was impossible not to remember how he had come this way many times, always happier on the trip to the station than on the trip home. As he approached the house, he again noticed the colourful curtains and thought it more of a home now than a house.

"Thanks," she spat at Snape as soon as he walked back in the door. "Resolve an issue. Now if you don't stay, it's my fault."

"I did not say that."

"He's eleven. It's what he heard."

"Further, my staying here is inappropriate."

"It's your house and the holidays." She put up her hand to stop his protests. "I don't want to argue. I always manage to say something wrong and you are quite right. It might look wrong and I refuse to put Hugh in the position of defending me. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Minerva has mentioned that I should perhaps take over the responsibilities of Hogwarts over the holidays while she takes a rest. She also correctly pointed out that Harry, as well as others, may think you are becoming overly attached …"

"Harry went to Minerva as well?"

"To see Hugh, yes. Not appreciating my answer, he sought out the Headmistress to make an acceptation to the rules. He seems to think that with your limited public contact you are becoming overly fond of…"

"Good lord," Hermione said in a rush of breath. "Now my sex life …or lack thereof…is a topic of discussion. He thinks we…because I am lonely? Since when don't I have contact with other people? Okay, since I came to Spinner's End, it's limited to the old guy down at the grocer and the smelly woman at the post, but I am beginning to like my solitude. That and the delivery boy is beginning to look good. A little young, but what the bloody hell. If Harry thinks you're too old for me perhaps he'll approve of a seventeen year old. The Muggles in the states have a name for it. Tell him I'm a cougar. I don't know what they call it here. Let him figure it out."

"I take it you have not formed an unnatural attachment." He raised his eyebrow and fought not to laugh.

"Tell Minerva I quit my job because I wouldn't sleep with my boss. I had contact with him right up until I slapped his ruddy face. Tell her the last man I went out with sent me home in a taxi after I told him about my surgery. If you need something else…just make it up. That should make everyone happy and keep them from thinking we were involved when I was a bloody student."

"Minerva mentioned the conversation only in her concern for you," he scowled.

"Fuck off Snape," she said, before becoming quiet. "Even if I did have a…attachment to you…it wouldn't be…unnatural. What about you? Did they discuss your…your…whatever. "

"I do not form attachments."

"Good." She stood and opened the oven, checking on the shepherd's pie she was baking, hiding her face from him in case her disappointment showed and wondering why she cared. She heard him leave the room and continued to get tea on the table then sat down and buried her head in her arms.

She had enjoyed their time together in the past. Now, learning that he would not be spending the holidays and the reason why, she felt suddenly exhausted and at a loss. Glancing around the kitchen, she thought of all the preparation she had done for the holidays. The work she had put into the sitting room, the fact that Hugh had already left for the night, the intrusion Harry had put on her life, seemed all too much and too fast. Her plans suddenly fell apart and seemed like a waste of time and only a foolish wish. A feeling of despair that swept over her and recognising the sensation as an early warning, she took deep breaths and tried to focus on the present and not let the rumours Harry was starting bother her.

"Hermione?" Snape knelt down next to her and put his hand on the shoulder, waiting for her to lift her head from her arms. "What is wrong?"

She sobbed, hearing his voice and struggling to focus on it. "It's not you. Truly, it's not. It's the whole thing. The hols, my parents not being here, Hugh…I don't know what to do with him and I miss…" She stopped and looked into his eyes, only inches from her own. "I miss him when he's gone. I never thought I would be able to say that. I want him here. So why did I let him run off today? He could have stayed a few hours at least."

"That is all?"

"I think so."

"You are lying again," he smirked, standing up and collecting the plates. "You do the same thing now that you did in school. You chew your lower lip. At first, I thought you were concentrating until I realized when you were lost in thought you started into space. No, it's the lip that always gave away your lies. With that said do you want to explain the bandage?"

"No." She wiped her face and licked her lips, feeling her mouth go dry. "I was feeling sorry for myself. I forgot where I put Hugh's Christmas gift. I can't remember…"

He opened the cutlery drawer and gave her a strange look. "You are this upset over the loss of a gift?"

"I know I bought him a book on Quidditch when I went to Diagon and put it away. Don't say it," she said giving a small laugh. "I put it somewhere I was sure to find it, only…I would have put it where I was sure to look before Christmas. It has to be somewhere simple. It was Quidditch…I am sure of it. Maybe football…or…I was looking at one on dragons."

"Hermione?" He slid the dinnerware on the table.

"It's that kind of day." She studied his face, seeing his concern and made a quick decision to trust him once more. "Severus? I have medication upstairs. I can't get to it right now. I can't …"

"Where?"

Learning where she kept her medication, Severus found in at once and returned to the kitchen where she sat waiting for him, staring at the window over the sink. She took the prescription bottle from him, and despite his scowl and warnings against Muggle sedatives, downed two before they ate dinner. Feeling herself begin return to normal half way through the meal, but still having an overwhelming need for sleep, she was at last able to smile and apologise for her behaviour.

"Sorry. It happens less and less," she said with a shrug. "I almost threw them out."

"You are not in the habit of…"

"Goodness, no. That is only the second time I've needed them since I moved here and it's been almost five months. There was a time I needed them twice a day. I think it was the excitement of Hugh coming home. " She rested her elbow on the table and laid her head in her hand, pushing her food around on her plate. "How did you do it? Everyone was against you and said terrible, awful things, yet you coped."

"I have never felt lonely, alone perhaps, but that is a different thing entirely. Living in Hogwarts with hundreds of students is not the lonely existence people think it is. There are times I wish that rather than staying in the dungeons I had taken a place in Hogsmeade. As for the rumours…I learned early to ignore them."

"This is the first time I've lived on my own. I mean…truly alone. I've always been at home, or in a dorm. Even in the States, I had my own room…or a flat…but there were always people milling around in the same building. Here…not that I don't like it here…I do…here it gets lonely. Was it like this when you grew up here? Sort of…isolated? Neighbours keeping to themselves?"

"It was different. Poorer, if that is possible, dirty, most decidedly. We didn't use magic. My father would not allow it and in later years, I do not think my mother was capable of it any longer. The summer was the worse of it. We, of course, had all the windows open and I spent the nights listening to the drunken rows coming from next door or from our own sitting room."

"You grew up thinking that was normal? That's what I didn't want for Hugh. Some of the places we looked at were exactly like that."

"You are doing well with him. He seems to be adjusting, although at times he seems depressed."

"He still talks of Mum and Dad as if…as if they may come back. I remember Harry and how he kept thinking in the magical world there should be a way to talk to them. Hugh must be doing the same thing, only for him he can still remember what they looked like. I thought of making a pensive for him. Would it help do you think?"

Severus frowned and lowered his head to keep his eyes shielded. "He needs to accept death and to learn who he is. It is wrong to…"

"That's something he will never know. I've been thinking," Hermione said quickly, needing to change the topic. "I need to start using that damned wand. Will you help? When we're done, you can try to reattach my fingernails. I am, however, able to apparate again."

"I told you to …" he stopped when she jerked her hand off the table and hid it on her lap, "let me see if I can heal it before we begin." Healing the raw nail beds, he muttered an incantation, attaching what passed for real nails. "They are only transfigured. However, they should last until your own begin to grow back. This is a useful spell for anyone that deals with children…of any age. Furthermore, an invaluable spell, for teaching apparation to those who have forgotten how to concentrate."

"Shut up, Snape," she laughed. "I didn't know if you would come back and needed to relearn."

"Start with something small," he said gently, looking around the kitchen until he saw the breadbasket. "Levitate the bread to the table."

"Sure," she said, reaching for her wand. "I just washed the floor so if I spill them you have to eat it anyway. Don't look at me like that…I'm trying to joke."

Pointing at the basket, she easily floated it to the table when her concentration waived and it fell with a plop. Severus flicked his hand and returned it to the counter, signalling her to try again.

"Show off," she said with a small laugh. "Why do you even carry a wand?"

"Habit, now try again."

The second time the bread came sailing to a perfect landing. Hermione stood and called out, "Accio Quidditch Book" only to still be standing three minutes later waiting for the book.

"It may be in a closed cupboard."

"It's in my old trunk," she grinned. "I remember now. I put it in with a new jumper I bought him and a couple of other things I thought he might like. Eat. It's getting cold."

They ate in a comfortable silence until Hermione began to sort the table. "Severus, you should be in your home for the hols. We are the intruders, not you. If you normally use it for entertaining, I will gladly take Hugh for a holiday. I should have thought of it before."

"I still have my year end reports to finish. I will be leaving tonight."

"And you sir, do not lie, you exaggerate. I am sure the reports will take you an hour at the most. You'll come back on Christmas day? Hugh will be sorely disappointed if you don't. I hate to say this, but he is beginning to think of you as somewhat of a friend of the family. You take up the bulk of his letters I dare say."

"I am afraid it may be going deeper than that."

"How so?"

"He was sorted into Slytherin, as was I. However, he does not seem suited to the house. I believe that the damned hat takes requests."

"He asked for Slytherin?"

"Anther reason I should not be here. I am his Head of House, nothing more. As such, it is better to maintain a certain distance."

"Harry did that. The hat was going to put him in your house," she said, laughing at the look of puzzlement on his face. "Next time you are tempted to feel sorry for yourself, remember that. It could have been a lot worse for you. Anyway, I'll talk to Hugh and explain. Listen to me," she laughed. "If you have other plans for the holiday I understand completely."

She lifted his robes from the hook and held them up while he slid his arms into them. "Here I am assuming you have no place else to go. Of course you do. Perhaps I'll take Hugh into town to the cinema. He would like that."

**~o0o~**

Christmas morning she pulled a pair of jeans and a hooded sweat from her closet, glancing at the new Christmas dress and the black shift, she thought of what a fool she had been to waste her money on such things. Hurrying to dress, she ran down to watch Hugh open his gifts and then started breakfast, not without thinking of how her mother had done the same thing on Christmases past.

"Is the professor coming?" Hugh sat shovelling food into his mouth, anxious to get back to his new video game.

"Nope, just me and you kid-o. Do you want to go to the cinema? We could go into London."

"Nah, I want to call Nick."

"Remember, not to use your time on one day. You are only home two weeks so I didn't get a full service."

"Is there a directory for wizards? You know, like for phone numbers here?"

"Umm, not that I know of."

"I thought that if you just …you know…if you don't know where he is anymore I could find him."

"Professor Snape? I imagine he is at Hogwarts. "

"No," he said, looking down at his plate. "My dad."

"Oh, Hugh," she breathed out, feeling like he had kicked her in the stomach from the suddenness of his request.

"I was thinking that even if he is dead I may have cousins and stuff. Grandparents…you know."

"He…he never said anything about his family." She reached over and laid her hand on his arm. "Mum and Dad were the only parents you need to think about."

"I thought that…you know…it being Christmas he may send me a letter or something."

"Ah, Hugh, no…don't. He…he didn't know about you and even if he did…I told you…he died in the war."

"You can't be sure about that. Binns said some of the bodies were never claimed. That some of them weren't properly identified. What if they messed up?"

"Binns? No, he must have been talking about the first war, not the second. You have it confused. There are spells now that they would have used. No one was left unknown."

"You don't know that. Not for sure. Mum said you were hurt and had to go to the hospital. That you weren't there at the end."

"Hugh, I know who died. I've read the lists and I know…"

"You weren't there! Even the Headmistress says the Daily Prophet prints lies. He's my father! You have no right not to tell me who he is! I bet he didn't even die! I bet he's someone you were scared to tell Dad about. I bet he wasn't even a student here. Uncle Harry would have known if he were. I bet you were hiding something."

"Don't talk to me like that young man." Hermione came to her feet and leaned on the table, scowling at him. "If you want to discuss it, that is one thing, but I will not tolerate you..."

"When do you plan on telling me? Never? Or haven't you thought up a lie yet?"

"Hugh! That's enough."

He ran from the kitchen leaving Hermione still sitting at the table. Running her finger along the rim of a Christmas patterned butter dish she thought of the day she and Mum had gone into the city and in a show of extravagance had purchased it for over fifty pounds, an outrageous sum even back then. She felt the sting of tears and wished she knew what to do. She wished Mum were still here to talk with. She thought to call him back, only to let him go, not wanting to see the look of hatred and disgust he'd had on his face and knowing the family tree she had worked on would not fill the void he felt.

As she stood to clear the table, she saw something move in the yard. Walking to the window, she tried to smile and tapped the glass, waving to Severus who was smoothing his robes after an apparently rough apparation. Pulling the door open, she stepped aside to let him in wishing him a Happy Christmas.

"Let me tell Hugh you are here." She smiled thinly and helped him off with his robes, shaking off a dusting of snow and hanging them on the hook by the door. "He was disappointed that we didn't have company. He's used to a house full on Christmas."

Severus reached out and turned her face towards him. "You've been crying."

"It's the holidays. It's our first one without Mum." She started to worry her lip then froze and looked up at him, seeing his smirk. "Shut up."

"Shall we start again?" He scowled at her.

"Hugh…he…" she started then could only shake her head as her tears began again. "It's normal for a day like this. He is thinking about the family he lost and…he wants to know about his biological father.

"Sit," he said, pointing to the kitchen chair. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No. He didn't mean it. The last thing he needs is to be punished for wanting to learn the truth."

"He needs to learn respect."

"It's not that easy. Once he learned the truth, he lost what little respect he had for me. To him…he lost his parents and his sister. I am just that person that lied to him for years."

"I agree. However, no matter what has happened in the past, he must learn that his actions have repercussions."

He turned his back on her and began upstairs, leaving her sitting at the table. Hermione watched him climb the steps, seeing him and remembering how her father would do the same when she was young and had rows with Mum and wondered if he had done the same with Hugh. Hermione bit her fingernail, watching for Severus' return, knowing he would never say he was disappointed in Hugh as her father would have, and if he did, she was sure it would not have the same effect.

"What did he say?" She asked when he returned.

"Hermione, what he said shall remain between the two of us. I cannot expect his trust otherwise. I will say, that we spoke of showing disrespect and that it will not be tolerated."

"You won't tell me?"

'No," he shifted in his chair, draping one long leg elegantly over the other.

"He asked you not to?"

"I would not put it like that. It was a mutual agreement."

"No, I don't image you would," she muttered.

"Hermione, you need to see things as he does. Whereas he can freely admit he wants to know his father, if you ask him why, he would not be able to put it into words. He wants a father, but at the same time he hates his father for deserting him."

"I never said that… I told him…"

"As you said…he hears as a child. All boys want their fathers in their lives, even if that father is an abusive monster. It is a conundrum to him as much as to you, and not an easy one to solve. It may interest you to know that boys his age already feel certain…protective attitudes…even at his age to their caregivers. You may only see the angry side that wants to lash out but the other side is battling within him, that I can assure you. He will say he hates you but will be the first to defend you honour."

"How long does this last?" she said trying to grin.

Severus let himself give her a rare smile and a soft chuckle. "Defending a witch's honour has many benefits. Your son has not learned that lesson yet. Once he does, the females in the house may not be safe from his charms."

"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said laughing. "Despite what it looks like I am glad you came, a bit surprised…but glad you came when you did."

"I am usually here on the holiday. It seems my presence at Hogwarts was causing…a stir."

"With the staff?"

"The staff only consists of me and Minerva this holiday. No, it seems the elves feel I am being harsh expecting them to keep up their duties during the holidays. They are no longer the accepting creatures you remember. Although they still shun freedom, your attempts at imparting individual thinking seems to be at long last catching hold."

"The elves? My goodness. I am sure it is not my doing," Hermione giggled. "Are you sure Minerva didn't force you out?"

"She did not." He raised his chin and folded his arms over his chest, inspecting his fingernails with great interest. "It was merely a suggestion."

"I'm glad you came." She took his hand and pulled him into the sitting room. "Come. You have a gift you need to open."

Severus sat uncomfortably on the end of the sofa accepting a small package from her out stretched hands. Opening the black velvet case, he looked up and saw her studying his face.

"I picked it out," Hugh said, avoiding Hermione as he came down the stairs. "See? It has a second hand that you need for brewing and that extra hand…if you hit the black thing… it's a stop watch too. The man said its water and shock proof."

"It's rather old fashioned," Hermione said. "I wanted to make sure it would work in… your world."

"The bands adjustable" Hugh offered.

Hermione left them in the sitting room while she prepared and served hot chocolate, then took the opportunity to run upstairs and quickly change into her Christmas dress and tie her hair back. Coming down the stairs, she felt Severus' eyes following her and was surprised when Hugh jumped up when she entered the room. She smirked as his eyes went to Severus and she saw him give a small nod of approval as he stood as well.

"Hugh, why don't you go and put on your new trousers and jumper."

He opened his mouth but closed it quickly when Severus cleared his throat, running up the stairs and into his room. "I don't know how you do it. He's completely different when you're not here."

"You look lovely," he said with a small nod of his head.

"Thank you." She smiled widely. "Dinner won't be until much later. How about a game of chess? I'll warn you in advance, I haven't played in years."

He beat her easily and then sat with Hugh, letting the boy get the advantage of the board before stepping up the game and defeating him in five more moves. During the next game, he asked Hugh why he had made every move, how it would put his opponent on the defence and when it would allow his foe to attack. By the fourth game, the moves became much slower as Hugh leaned forward and studied the board before committing himself.

Hermione sat on the floor between them, only once coughing into her hand as Hugh reached out to touch a piece. After a stern look from Severus, and a groan from her son, she did not repeat her obvious blunder. The two played seriously, none of the friendly banter that she associated with board games of all types and just as she was about to call off the battle of wits when the timer in the kitchen did it for her.

After a dinner Hermione had spent two days preparing and all three eating more than they should she brought out a pecan pie. "It was my favourite when I went to school. A little café served it with bourbon sauce and whipped cream. I found the receipt on line and wanted to try it."

"It's good," Hugh said, setting down his fork. "Can I save it for later?"

"Later? Where's your hurry?"

"Nick is going to call."

"Go…"

"Are you asking a question?" Severus said, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

"May I be excused?" Hugh sighed and lowered his head, hint of colour starting on his throat.

"Yes, you may." Hermione grinned as he left, then shook her head and began to sort out the kitchen. Opening the cutlery drawer, she pulled out her wand and winked at Severus. "My Christmas present to myself." She laughed and began to levitate the dishes to the sink and clean faster than she had for years.

Turning on the Christmas lights, she picked up the sitting room as Severus put the chess pieces back in the box and handed to her. She carried the chess set to the cupboard and stood on her toes to put the game on the highest shelf when Snape's arm reached over her head, taking it from her and putting it in place. Turning toward him she found herself trapped, he in front of her racks of clothes and coats behind her. Tipping her head up she was not surprised to feel his hand lift her chin higher and his lips seek hers.

"Severus," she breathed out his name as their lips parted.

Stepping back, he looked down at her, his face unreadable. "I didn't plan to do this."

"It's fine." She reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I should be leaving. It is late and …"

"Stay."

"No, that is not a good idea. I have overstayed my welcome."

"Because of a kiss? Severus, if I minded I would say so. I rather enjoyed it." She grinned up at him, standing on her toes to place a quick kiss on mouth, only at the last moment turning her target to that of his cheek.

He slowly traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb before bending down and kissing her again, more deeply. Pulling her close, the length of her body pressed against him, one of his arms encircled her waist while his other followed the curve of her hip.

"Is this what you want? Be careful how you answer," he murmured into her neck as he kissed under her ear.

"Because you do not form attachments?" She closed her eyes and felt herself melting into him.

Fisting her hair at the back of her head, he pulled it back to see her face. "I do not want a witch in my life. If you want this, there are no promises and no future in it."

"It feels…right. We can figure it out together." Reaching her arms up around his neck, she slid her fingers under his collar, stoking his skin with the back of her hand. "I'd like to see more of you."

"Hermione," he sighed, removing her arms and locking his eyes on hers. "There will be no _together._ I would enjoy seeing you like this…being with you like this. However, with no future, no hope that it will go further. Are you able to accept that?"

"I …no." She brought her hand his chest and turned her head away. "I thought you cared for me."

Releasing her, he stepped back and let his eyes travel over her body. "Then I will bid you goodnight and leave you with your dignity intact. If I stay I will…"

"Go then," she choked, feeling the sting of tears. "Just…just go."

.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 12**

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Hermione and Hugh travelled to London, using the longer train travel, she spending the time lost in a book, he playing his video games. After stopping in St. Mungo's for what she thought would be a quick trip, she settled Hugh into the cafeteria before finding the employment department. Although her resume met with stony silence and some disbelief that a witch such as the famous Hermione Granger would have reduced herself to a Muggle degree, they continued to have her fill out page after page of personal information and read over a pamphlet on policy and procedures while she waited.

"Excuse me." Hermione finally had enough sitting and waiting while the employment staff studied her cover letter and copies of certificates and diplomas, she had brought. "I have a child waiting downstairs. I didn't realize it would take so long. Perhaps I should talk to the Healer in charge of the lab. All my studies of human anatomy are in there. If you have problems with the Muggle terminology, I am sure that he …"

"Miss Granger," Healer Clough said, walking up behind her. "I saw your name on the appointment list and wanted to make sure I saw you. So sorry for the delay."

"Healer Clough." She held out her hand and had it warmly grasped in his. "How good to see you again. This is your project now?"

"Something I had never thought to hear from you," he chuckled and winked at her. "I will continue the interview." He took the papers from the clerks and started out the door, Hermione following after. "Yes, my project. However, it is meeting with some resistance. I am glad to see you have done so well."

"I never did finish my internship," she admitted.

"That doesn't matter here." He walked to his office as he read the file the employment office had put together, picking out a couple of pages and crumbling them. "Personal opinion pieces are not accepted here. Fine, every thing looks just fine. Now tell me," he waved her to a chair by his desk, "why do you want this position?"

"It is a field I enjoy, affords independent study and hopefully an honest review of my work. The position is also one with a future and a chance to advance in the field. I will say, I may be rusty on the reports and procedures. I am used to computerized files and it may take a while to get in the habit of paper reports again."

"That's what you think I want to hear. What I asked is why here? Why this position?"

"I live north of the city now. This would allow me to stay home. It would also enable me to continue another project I have started.'

"You are not living in the magical world?"

"No." The feeling of being his patient again slipped over her. The way he steepled his fingers while looking over them, much as Dumbledore had done, unnerved her and the way he waited for her to add to her response brought back all those hours she had spent in his care.

"I see," he chuckled and shook his head, tossing the file onto his desk, "nothing has changed. You still distrust me."

"No, I don't think you do see. I am caring for Hugo now. He is my responsibility. I don't want to disrupt him with yet another move."

"We left your therapy before we reached the cause for your problems, only the symptoms. Have you reconsidered?"

"Is that a condition of employment?" Hermione stood and looked down at him. "If it is, I will not take any more of your time."

"It is." Healer Cough stood and walked around the desk, taking her hands in both of his. "When you have resolved your issues, feel free to reapply. I would very much like to have you on the staff."

"I have," she said smiling. "I have an education, my own place, and I am able to care for my brother. What more do you want?"

"I want you to come in here and say your son, not your brother, lives with you. I want you to talk about what really happened and not hide what you mistakenly think is shameful. If you find you cannot talk to me…find another Healer. Hermione, there is something more. Until you admit what it is, you will…"

"Fine."She snatched her hands away from him. "The truth is that I only wanted this job to keep busy, for something to do as it is."

"I'll be here when you are ready." He closed his door behind her, shaking his head and wondering how long it would take.

**~o0o~**

As soon as Hugh returned to school, Hermione organized her research and began to send letters in the hopes of finding someone that remembered Tom Riddle from his time in the Muggle world before his raise to power. Now that she knew St. Mungo's would not be soon wanting her services she made a work plan, laying out exactly what she had to do and an estimate of the time it would take. After her first batch of inquires was sent out to hospitals, schools, genealogy sites and Muggle publications that were still in existence, she sat and waited impatiently.

Tying her trainers and pulling a thick jumper over her head, she went out for her morning run, unable to clear her head and hoping her daily outing would help. It was difficult to find anyone from Riddle's younger years, as she had known it would be, and she could not stop thinking of the problems she faced, nor could she stop herself from thinking about Severus. She ran along the pavement, turning north at the corner instead of her usual southern route that took her by the river.

This morning was cold, her breath hung in the air, visible and white. Looking at the buildings in the older part of town she now found herself in, she ran past a past a school, then stopped and turned back to study it. _Severus would have gone here_, she thought, _there must be old classmates that remember him._ They would have known him before he turned hard and cold. Known him before he had been persuaded to join the Dark Lord's side, known him before he had gone to Hogwarts.

She wondered if they would remember the times the same way he did. Would they remember a poorly dressed boy or would they just see another kid like them, raised in a poor area by a father that didn't care? Would the local hospitals have records of the abuse that occurred at Spinner's End? Would the local police have reports of domestic violence? A child may not have been aware of these things, she thought, pondering the hoards of people that must have known about his home life. She began to run again, returning home, a new idea for her search already forming.

Making a list of all the things she hoped to find, she paused as her pen hovered over the paper. Severus had said he would look into some of the more mundane material, medical records, essays, or old classroom work. Now, she was unsure how to approach him for it. Laying her pen down she scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands in an effort to stay awake before fixing a pot of tea.

She knew the Headmistress had gone to school with Riddle, had known him since he had arrived in the magical world, as had her and Tom's classmates. She made a note to find the student list of Riddle and McGonagall's year, hoping to find a Muggle born that had known him outside of school. It wasn't impossible, she reasoned, Lily had known Severus and if she had lived would have made an excellent source of information on him.

With the Muggle life span so much shorter, Hermione had not held out much hope and was pleasantly surprised when she heard back form a curator that was currently teaching at the Munich Art Conservatory. Checking his name against those she had on file, she found his age to be around seven when Riddle would have been on the continent. She could not be sure he was the same Mueller whose name she had come across almost by chance on the internet, reading old court records and affidavits of post war Germany. At first, she had ignored the find. Reading the age of the child that had given the information, and the misspelling of Riddle to Ridlie, she had only scanned the page when the search engine pulled it up.

Later, searching for academics that Tom Riddle may have had an interest in, she read about a University in Munich whose department head had once been known as a rather strange fellow. Favouring teaching old Myths of Necromancy instead of the more sedate and accepted study of Greek and Roman legends, he had made quite a name for himself. Examining his life more closely, she had felt a rush of excitement that this may be her first eyewitness.

The University listed him as an expert in Greek and Roman culture and literature. However, he seemed to be the resident expert in art as well. _Painter, works primarily in oils, born 1938. Painting entitled…The Lord's Riddle, Riddle Declassified, Riddle within Arrogance, currently on display as well as many other portraits and historically timed landscapes of post war Europe. _

Comparing the dates he had said he was free to see her, with the dates of Hogwarts' term, she knew she either took Hugh with her or found someone to tend him. She didn't dare call Mary. Not after a year with no contact. Playing with the idea of taking him with her, she at once discarded the thought, not wanting him left alone in a hotel room and definitely not wanting him to overhear any part of a discussion about Tom Riddle.

Pacing the sitting room, she finally grabbed her wand and yanked her jumper from the hook. Four hours later, she was walking into the Ministry and surrendering her wand to the receptionist. After finding the office for International Portkey Travel, she filed out a two-page application and waited for approval, nervously sitting in an almost empty waiting room.

"Miss Granger? My word, it is you," Kingsley greeted her with a kiss to both cheeks. "It has been much too long."

"Minister," she said with a smile. "I was so pleased to hear about your advancement."

"How are you? I kept in touch with your parents until their passing. I was sorry to hear that you did not wish any contact with us at the time."

"It wasn't that. I was overseas. By the time I arrived home the arrangements had been made."

"I see you are planning trip," he said easily, in his low baritone voice that Hermione found so comforting and a put her instantly at ease.

I am planning a book. I need to get to Munich and back in the same day and since this…"

"Of course. It is being made as we speak," he said, waving her back to her seat and taking the one next to her. "Now, what is this about? We do have to be careful."

"A Mr. Mueller I wrote to said he may have some information on Tom Riddle, of his time in the Muggle world."

"What do you plan on telling him? As to your reason for requesting this information?"

"Do you think I would do anything to jeopardise this world?" she asked, not able to keep her annoyance from her voice. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. To be honest it is a tad nerve racking to be back here."

"Understood. However, I am afraid it is something we must know."

"I don't have a plan as such. This Mr. Mueller is a professor and somewhat of an artist in his own right. He has a series of paintings on display. All with titles that allude to Riddle, a Tom Riddle. Depending on the direction of the conversation, I will say either I am doing a paper on art appreciation or working on a family tree. Also, the paintings are from a collection of his memories of the Second World War. I can use that as well."

"Hermione," he said softly as he leaned closer. "How is your son doing? Is he coping with the death of your parents? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, nothing. He…he is fine. Just the normal twelve-year-old stuff. I will ask you not to talk…"

"No, quite right. I should not have mentioned it. Here is your portkey," he smiled, taking it from the clerk. "Once you arrive in Munich you will be in a small stair well. Move to the top and exit on the first level. The Conservatory will be to your right…a short walk."

"The times? Are they left open?"

"It is only the day that is set. It is also open for two. I thought the boy may enjoy the day."

"I was considering it. I would rather take him on holiday. Perhaps I will bother you for another?"

"Fine," Kingsley smiled his easy smile and patted Hermione's hand. "You tell me where and it shall be yours."

The day before Hugh was due home she left, finding Mr. Mueller easier than she had thought and recognising him by his self description of being _perhaps the oldest and most decidedly the slowest in the room_.

"Mr. Mueller? I am Hermione Granger. I contacted you about…"

"Ah yes, yes." He looked up at her from his position in a wheel chair. "I could tell by your handwriting that you would bring a feast for my eyes. Indeed you have. Such a treat for an old man to have one such as you for company." He leaned forward and winked at her, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter. "We must not appear to be having fun. This is a serious place they tell me."

"Mr. Mueller, I am…"

"A beautiful shade of red," he chuckled. "Woman these days have lost the fine art of the shy blush and do not know how provocative it can be. They prefer instead short shirts and open blouses, which any man worth his salt can find in the morning newspaper and not waste his time going out to find. Now push this damned thing to the door…yes over there. I have something to show you."

"You wrote that you knew a Tom Riddle? Born 1926 in England?"

"I knew of him. That is all I needed to know. If you are asking, did I see him, talk to him. Yes I did. Tall, handsome man. A silver tongue they would have said. Gifted in the social arts. No one knew him…no one that lives. To know a man you must see into him…discover his soul and know his secrets. You must delve into his dreams and understand what he…"

Hermione felt defeated and had yet to begin. She had come on a fool's mission, she thought as the old man's voice droned on with physiological drivel that she had heard before.

"…yes, yes…I was quite sure it was Riddle. I still think it was him, that son of a bitch. Quite right and proper he was. British when British was still fashionable."

"I'm sorry? The chair…I didn't catch that," she said, knowing he was waiting for a response.

"Over there…yes the second gallery, now to the end and …yes yes…there he is. That is him as I first saw him."

Hermione stopped pushing the chair and looked up at the wall where the old man was waving his arm and found herself face to face with a life size painting of Tom Riddle. "My god," she whispered as her knees began to give out. Squatting next to the wheelchair, she held on to the armrest to steady herself.

"You knew him?" Mr. Mueller squinted at her. "You are much too young to have known that monster. You lost a family member or loved one?"

"Yes, I…I lost someone," she breathed out. "You painted this? When?"

"It was during the reconstruction that I first saw him. The whole city was laid to waste. Each side taking a quarter of the whole and meting out their idea of justice." He looked up at the picture as his own memories flooded back. "I was a child. A hungry child when we came here. It was winter and I had no shoes." He paused and studied the painting as if seeing it for the first time, patting Hermione's hand as if reassuring her. "'We had fled from Dresden with its awful stench of fires that still raged and came here to another type of storm. You must understand that my mother was a proud woman. Yes, yes…a very proud woman. Without her pride, my life may have been much different. Turn me around…quickly now…she is down there at the other end. I say quickly. You my dear may take your time. It is I that must be quick in all I do. At my age, I want to make sure I finish what I start. It is not may age as much as my health…poor health they say is a result of…"

"The woman in blue? That one?"

"My mother, yes, yes," he wheezed out, coughing into a handkerchief. "The woman is her, how she looked the last I saw her. However I took liberties with her dress and gave to her what she never had in life."

"She is beautiful." Hermione nodded appreciatively at the stern looking woman dressed in royal blue silk, wistfully looking out to a calm seascape.

"And proud. Too proud to accept handouts, too proud to let the British or Americans give us food or shelter and hated the Russians too much to go to them. The French, ahh…the French. They wanted too many questions answered. No, no we hid in the ruins of what had been one of the greatest city in the world and she, my mother, a great woman, a princess really, took in laundry and cleaned their toilets."

"She met Riddle there?"

"Quite right. Perhaps before and followed him here. I was never sure of their first meeting. He was young. Younger than she I believed…now, knowing his age most assuredly younger…take me back to him…there is more."

"More paintings?"

"In time… in time. Where to start…" he sighed. "I have written all this down."

"May I …I would be very careful with your writings if…"

"Why are you interested in him? Who would believe me now? Even then, even with the evidence in front of them the tribunal couldn't be bothered."

"I was there when he died." Hermione again squatted down next to him all thoughts of covering her reason for coming now gone. "I would believe you."

His eyes turned to the painting as he slowly shook his head. "They never listened."

"I … the tribunal… for the war crimes? They couldn't. The Tribunal was set up only for the Nazi war crimes, no one else. I saw a report…it was filed by a young boy against a man named Ridles…was that you?"

"Nothing became of it." He shook his head slowly, lost to the picture of his mother. "They let me leave what I had written and shoved it in a file. Nothing more. They thought it…odd…that a child would bring them proof…such is how we treat children. He was not a Nazi, nor was he anything we would recognise by name. It was his own…more private war that raged in those times. The times after the bombs stopped falling."

"Did you try the local authorities? The non-military?'

"My dear, no, no…it was not like that. There was no one to trust you see. "

"I see," Hermione looked back over her shoulder at the first picture she had seen. "You said that is how he looked the first time you saw him. What was the last?"

"When my mother killed him."

"No, he lived. It is the same man I saw. I…I can't prove it to you…but it's him. I know it as surly as I know my own name. I told you…I was there when he died."

"She came back the next morning. She was going to hide his body. That is what the child I was thought at the time. However if pressed, I cannot give you a reason I believed that and still do. Yes, to move it further from our…house we called it. House…three walls and no roof."

"Please, go on," Hermione sighed, wanting him to recite the story without the personal thoughts at this time, anxious to hear the end.

"His body was gone as I knew it would be."

"Gone? Just…I 'm sorry …go on."

"I wanted to tell you the beginning and here I am telling you the end," he chuckled. "I had a speech all planned and now I ramble like an old man. Yes, yes, I was hungry all the time. It was cold at night and sometimes I cannot remember which was worse. The curse of old age you know…forgetting the present and living again in the past. As I was saying, I didn't know which was worse, the cold or the hunger. Then, he came, and we were not hungry any longer. But that is not the beginning. It started well before I ever saw him."

"He…he and your mother?" Hermione wanted to shake the old man, to hurry him along, at the same time wanting to pull out a pen and record every word. Cursing herself for not having the brains to bring a voice recorder she tried to memorize everything he said.

"I thought so at the time. I remember thinking it…almost wanting it to be true at the same time hating him for it. Things were different then...different for a woman who lay with a man outside of marriage…outside of their own nationality at the time. The war did that. Made whores of good German woman who loved a man whose name was different and aged children well beyond their years.

The war was caused by men, thrust beyond what they should have grasped by a population hungry for more. They destroyed our world and took millions with them. Millions. Your Tom Riddle did the same…not for political reasons…for evil and evil alone. However, I was young and the young do not think that their parents have sex if that was your question. I thought at the time that he liked her , for what man could not have been, and would take us out of all that. It's all written down. I wrote it all. Take me back now, to the end…the girl …the one in yellow. She was his first…rather the first of us."

Hermione pushed him to the far side of the gallery, trying to sort out what he had said in his rambling style. Again, she followed his flaying arms until she saw a small painting of a young girl dressed in yellow. "This one?"

"Ah yes, my Greta, my little Greta. I remember the day she wore that dress. My mother wore rags and dressed her finely. An angel she is now."

"You painted it from memory as well? It is beautiful."

"We weren't hungry after he took her. She was my sister," he said with a soft chuckle. "He said she would always be with me…like magic as he would often say. Then, she was gone and we were hungry no more. I miss her still and wonder what kind of woman she would have become. Such a sweet girl my Greta."

"What? I don't…" she stood up and looked back at the far end of the gallery where a young handsome Tom Riddle stood, his eyes seemingly following her. Walking back, she studied the picture, her eyes searching for a clue she did not want to find. Tearing her eyes from his face, she finally saw he was standing in a pool of dark red liquid that had a small yellow ribbon floating in it. Feeling bile raise up in her throat she spun back to Mr. Mueller and saw the truth on his face.

"You …you don't mean that he fed you…you can't…"

"Yes," he sighed and waved her over to him, jerking his head to the back of the chair. "Take me to the next room."

"Your mother…she …she found out what he had done? That's why she tried to kill him?"

"No, that is when she went mad. I am not sure she remembered it after that happened. Oh no, no…thank god she forgot that. She was there when he broke my legs and didn't lift a finger. Quite mad she was."

"How did he…I hate to pry…"

"Hate to pry? Is that not why you are here?"

Hermione swallowed hard and nodded her head. "How did he break you legs?"

"I am not sure I remember more than the pain. I have tried. I have tried to see what horror my mother saw. Alas…it is gone. I have read that great trauma can do that. The greater the hurt, the pain, the mindless futility of it all…the more memories may be lost to protect us from the truth. I am not sure I believe that…they are here…in oils and canvas. My memories left for those with no understanding to ferret out the reason."

"You don't remember him…touching you?" Hermione looked back at the picture and wondered if he, like her, still fought to remember bits and pieces of his life while wishing other parts to stay hidden.

"No, as he said later…it was magic. I had always suspected something put in my food…until I became older. I often see him standing over me, not touching me as the pain became unbearable."

"Mr. Mueller…you said no one listened. No one helped. How could they not?"

"You, my child, said that you knew him. Do you still have to ask that? Did he not have…friends in high places?"

"Yes, yes he did," she whispered. "Your mother…what…what did he do to her? Was she one of his…or one of his victims?"

"A victim you think? One would have to know what you meant by that. By the time he killed her she was quite mad. He said he could bring her back. That he had power over the dead. That she had only to trust him. I quiet believed him at the time. I was a child and _wanted_ to believe him I imagine. She lay there for days before he gave up his chants and threw her body into the road for the carts to pick up. By that time she was…not suitable…was how he put it."

"You…you had to watch?" She choked, feeling her eyes well with tears.

"There is a saying I am sure you know. What does not kill us only makes us stronger." He sighed loudly and waved to another open archway. "I am very strong…as are you."

Hermione snapped her eyes to his, seeing his soft smile, feeling he knew something about her she did not know herself. "What is in the next room?" She asked, not commenting on his statement.

"Terror. Are you ready to see it my dear? Here they call it _modern, surrealist, cubism_, but I can assure you, evil is not modern. It was unleashed in the firestorms that dropped from the skies. He only scooped it up and ate it for lunch."

She pushed him slowly through the next gallery, seeing four more pictures of Riddle. One with a skeletal face, grinning out at the passersby, one that she could not quite make out except of the dominance of red paint and the two he signalled she stop in front of.

"From my short lived attempt at cubism," he chuckled waving his hand at the painting. "It should be hung in the furnace room. However, since I am as much a part of the displays here as the better stuff they keep both it and me around to tout out for visiting day."

She looked at the third and recognised a hint of Dali's influence and was about to walk by it when she felt his hand reach up and rest on hers. "Are you one of his?"

"His? Heavens no. I am writing a book…"

"There is a fifth my dear. There are many others in storage. However, this one is the impression I still have of him. Do tell me if I have it right."

Hermione turned and saw Riddle with his red eyes and scaly skin, his nose misshapen and his mouth open in a silent scream of rage. Around him swirled a flaming sky, at his feet a castle left in rubble.

"Now tell me again," his hand again gripped hers. "Are you one of his?"

"His? Define his." Hermione choked, not able to take her eyes off the final and most horrifying image.

"His victims or of his magic? Are you one of his?"

"Yes," She fell on her knees in front of him and rested her cheek on his lap as hot tears filled her eyes. "You saw him exactly right. Exactly. How? How did you know?"

Releasing her hand from his grip, he stroked her hair and sighed. "Years ago…perhaps two dozen or more, my legs began to ache and finding it impossible to sleep I began painting what I saw I my dreams. For a while, it was as if I had found my peace only to have it come again. That was when he came to me like this."

"May I visit again? I'll have questions, hundreds of questions. I can't do it now. Not now. I can't think…I…"

"Yes, yes…now take an old man back where you found him and make a left, to the end and another left. My journals are in my office. I will soon be at the end of my life and want to see what you have to say before it comes."

"Mr. Mueller, it may take me years to…"

"Let an old man have his dreams. Dreams I must say are much more peaceful these days and I can look forward to seeing a pretty girl…no, not a girl any longer … a beautiful woman."

"Please, wait…I …I'm confused. You said your mother killed him…but you just said _he_ threw _her_ dead body in the road."

"I have spent my life solving that question," he sighed and looked up at the painting. "It was her. I would know my own mother."

"Please, how did she…what did you see? You said she came back twice. Once to kill him and once to move the body. I…I need to understand."

"She was bloated. Bloated and white, a vile shadow of what she was." His voice a whisper. "I have made a life study of…darkness. Death, rebirth. As a young man, I took a trip to the islands south of America. It is said they still practice the art of making the dead walk. The stories are wrong of course. What I sought was much older."

"Inferi,' Hermione offered. "Are you familiar with that term?"'

"Ah, Inferi Dii, yes, yes…of course. It has no meaning here." He chuckled and lifted his head, locking his eyes on hers. "Koschei is said to have found what you are interested in, not Hades. You are searching in the wrong place."

"No," she stood, stumbling back from him, "no, I only want to know about the man."

"Who are you?" He leaned forward in his chair, spinning the wheels with his hands, coming closer to her. "You are too young to know him, to recognize him unless you are one of his…one like he that refuses to die."

"I…I told you. You asked if I was one of his victims. I lost loved ones to him. I…"

"That is not what I need to know. I need to know if what I believe is true or if I wasted my life. Have you come back? Are you here to finish what he started?"

She squatted down in front of him, slipping her wand down her sleeve, letting it rest in her palm until she decided what to do. "If I tell you that magic is real. That it exists. That is has always existed, would you believe me?"

"It is true," he choked, pushing the wheels of his chair backwards as his eyes grew large and his hands trembled. "You've come back. I knew you would. I knew you would come back for me."

"No."Hermione reached out and stopped the chair. "Even in our world he was a monster. Perhaps more so. He only…practiced in yours." She raised her wand and chanted an incantation, quickly replacing his memory of only the past few moments, beginning at her mention of the word Inferi and replaced them with his consent to give her his written accounts.

Leaving his office, she followed the signs to the loo where she vomited into the toilet. Resting on her knees, she breathed deeply until her hands quit shaking and her legs would support her. _Gods,_ she thought as the memory of Kingsley's warnings echoed in her ears. Standing up she leaned against the stall, wishing she had brought someone with her, even if it was a twelve-year old kid that would be waiting for her in the cafeteria or gift shop.

**~o0o~**

The first thing she did after reaching home was to write a letter to Severus. She wanted to share what she had found with someone. Someone that would tell her the information was important no matter the cost. Someone that would say she had done the right thing and that a memory charm was harmless. Someone that could reason with her and put her fears to rest.

Perhaps Minerva was correct, she thought as she tore the missive off Ravens leg and threw it in the bin. Perhaps it was just her loneliness that made her revisit the memory of his kiss and want contact with him. Perhaps, she was only his irksome tenant and in his eyes a bother. That or a lonely and easy conquest.

What she had regretted was not the kiss, nor his admission that if they continued it would mean nothing. She realized, after she had soothed her bristled feathers with half a bottle of scotch that she much preferred his honesty than the lies she had heard from too many in the past. What she had regretted was in one moment she lost not only him, but his friendship as well. Now she struggled in her decision…her compulsion to contact him.

Sitting at the table, she rewrote the letter and again hesitated to send it, not knowing how he would feel receiving yet another request from a woman that rejected him. She stared out the window watching Raven peck at the glass before sighing deeply and rereading the note. She had not rejected him, she reasoned. She had rejected only his suggestion of…that's where she was confused and sought the right word.

Tapping the tabletop with her pen, she thought it odd that Severus could ever have a casual affair. He not only was too…too proper, but much to reserved. She laughed aloud at the thought of a reformed Death Eater being reserved or too proper and crumbled up the note to try again. She changed the salutation to the more formal _Professor_ Snape and added Granger to her first name, making sure the letter was a professional letter from one of his student's mother, asking for a moment of his time and the delivery of her son.

She retied the note and sent Raven off, anxious to start reading the notebooks Mr. Mueller had given her. As she watched the tawny owl wing its way over the low wooden wall that enclosed the yard she was suddenly struck with the thought of spending the summer at Spinner's End and wondered if Snape indeed did not mind her occupying the house, or if she should find something else.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 13**

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Hermione had only finished half of the first notebook by the time the sky was turning light. Mr. Mueller's handwriting was proving difficult to read. When he had offered her the book, he had laboriously translated into English, she had foolishly thought it would make it easier than reading the original German. Now she was rethinking her choice. Although his spoken English was almost without fault, with hardly an accent, his written words were flat and she was sure not as rich in emotion and detail as his German would be.

She opened the window and looked into the yard hoping that Raven had returned. With a sigh, she shut the sash and looked at the clock knowing if she did not hear from Severus soon she would have to catch the train to London. Although she was tempted to use apparation, she was no longer sure where she could safely appear. Fortified with a hot cup of tea, she opened the second notebook, losing track of time until the owls tapping brought her attention to the kitchen window. A quick reading of the note and she knew she had better hurry if she were to catch the train. Dressing in a rush, she took the notebook with her to read on the train, thinking she would pass the time constructively.

What kept playing through her mind, however, and making it impossible to read, was the short tersely worded note that had returned from Hogwarts. She knew the last time she had seen Severus things had gone badly, but she had hoped that by this time he would have forgiven her reaction and understood that she would only contact him if it were important.

She smiled, as the train went over a trestle, seeing the sparkling water of the ocean in the distance and the summer greenery lush and full. She thought of finding a summer rental, camping with her parents, her father on his fishing trips where he caught nary a fish. Hoping for a quite place on open water, she slipped into a daydream of warm summer nights and cool sea breezes. Lost in thought she passed the time until she heard the old man's voice. _"I have read that great trauma can do that."_

Shesat up straighter and adjusted her jumper, using her movements to conceal the quick glance over her shoulder and her furtive search for was a dream, a daydream, she was sure of it at the same time not sure where her daydreams stopped and her life began. "_The greater the hurt, the pain, the mindless futility of it all…the more memories may be lost to protect us from the truth". _

She was at a loss as to where she was and angry that his words were intruding on her. Feeling the familiar panic, she leaned her head back on the seat. Recalling the most recent thing she could remember, an old man in wheelchair and a monster's face, she sighed in relief as the past few hours came back in a rush, his unwelcomed and intrusive words fading away.

Seeing the station coming up she gathered her things and took a deep breath, preparing for the short walk to Platform 9 ¾. She had planned to stand in the back, as far away from the parents as she could. Pulling her hair back and twisting it into a ponytail, she pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and waited for the students to file out.

The sight of Hugh walking off the train broke her resolve and she ran to gather him up in her arms. After her first crushing hug, she stepped back and laughed at his red face. "Sorry, kid-o," she said. "You look so good I had to do it. Gods I've missed you."

"You could'a wore robes," he whispered.

"I came on the Muggle train. I wouldn't have blended in," she whispered back, giggling at his embarrassment. "Neither will you so take them off. You should have changed in the train. You know better."

"All the Slytherin parents wear them." He jerked his head to the far side of the platform. "Now they're going to be after me about this too."

"I'll wear some in September when I bring you back. I'll transfigure them to get here or find an apparation point." She looked at the small group of parents dressed in robes, glancing at the other parents all in Muggle clothing that she had to admit looked a lot better than she did. "Sorry. It was never dress up time on the platform when I went to Hogwarts. I wouldn't have dressed like this if I had known."

She stood up and waited until he lifted his trunk and backpack onto a trolley as she continued to watch the other parents. Seeing Snape step off the train she broke into a wide grin and started to walk towards him, stopping before she had gone more than a couple of steps. _Strange_, she thought, _that a teacher now accompanied the students,_ when she saw a willowy witch walk up to him and take his arm.

"Hugh? Who is that with Professor Snape?"

"She's the new one for potions. Snape's been made Headmaster."

"How nice for him and Minerva both. She only took the Headmistress spot as a temporary position, that was years ago." She grabbed the trolley and began to push it toward the column, putting her back to Snape.

"Yeah, well I don't like her."

"She …she looks nice."

"All flirty and cheap you mean," Hugh said as took the trolley away from her. "Mica, he's a third year. Mica said Snape was all over her in the stairwell."

"Hugh! You know better than spreading tales," she said, unable to stop from looking back as the witch tucked her hand into his elbow. "What's her name?" A lump in her throat continued to grow as she watched the couple stop to visit with a small group of parents.

"I don't know. No, wait…its Brown. That's it…Something brown."

"Figures," she snipped, turning back and helping Hugh with his cart as his backpack threatened to topple. "We have to hurry. Our train home leaves in about twenty minutes. We should be at the platform by now."

On the ride home, she kept Mr. Mueller's notebook in her handbag as she and Hugo talked about what he had missed at home and what he had done at Hogwarts. She told him that her book was still in progress and if she could only find a couple more sources, she would have enough to send it to an editor on speculation. Nodding at him in all the right places, she feigned interest in what he said, all the while thinking about the new Professor Brown and the way she had looked up at Severus.

"With any luck I'll get an advancement on the book and we can find a real house," she said, cutting off Hugh's narration of his latest escapade.

"What's wrong now? You don't like it at Spinner's End?"

"I am sure Professor Snape would like his house back. If he has a...a _friend_ now he may like some privacy. It looks like _she_ would," Hermione said with a short laugh. "Anyway, you were the one that called it a dump."

"He gets privacy in the dungeons," Hugh sorted. "She's down there all the time except this last week when she was tromping up to his new office."

"Hugh, manners. If she is new she…"

"That's the thing. Even before he got the Headmaster spot and hired her, she was there all the time. Mica says…"

"Let's not talk about this. Okay? I want to hear about you, not …that…that witch and Mica."

"I can't talk about my father and I can't talk about Mica. Anything else on your list?" He arrogantly jerked his chin, sending his too long hair over his shoulder as he sneered at her.

"Don't talk to me like that. And as soon as we get home you get a hair cut young man."

"Talk to you like what?"

"You know full well what I mean."

"Right." He folded his arms and threw himself back against the seat. "Mica says witches that have babies before they are married are whores. Stupid whores for not taking a potion."

"I see. Is that what you think?"

"He said all Muggles are like that. I bet that's why my Dad left you. He found out what you were."

Hermione turned her head and stared out of the window wishing the train would never stop but keep on going until she could fall asleep and somehow woke up somewhere she had never been. _"Are you one of his?"_ Laying her forehead on the cool glass, she sighed deeply and shook her head. No, no she wasn't one of his. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the rhythm of the wheels and the gentle swaying of the car. Blocking out Hugh and the old man's voice she felt herself slip away into that place just this side of reality and for the first time, knowingly sought a sleep that held no dreams.

"Sis? Wake up," Hugh's voice came to her from a fog, sounding lost and afraid. "Our station is coming up. You want to miss it? Come on, Sis?"

"No," she sat up and looked around, confused and lost. "No, no, of course not."

"We're there," he told her, nodding to the window. "We have to go now."

Hermione gathered her belongs and followed Hugh while he collected his trunk and made his own arrangements to have it delivered to the house the next day. Turning on her heel, she started home, Hugh running to catch up.

"Hey, I said I was sorry."

"I know, Hugh. I'm tired. We can talk about it tomorrow when I can think. Please, not now."

"You don't have to get all uppity with me."

She stopped and turned to him. "You called me a whore. What did you think would happen? Did you think I would just say 'poor little Hugh'? Do you think I can just keep making excuses for you and pretend nothing happened? It's time you grew up and acted your age. I'm through with it. You stop acting like a spoiled brat or I'm pulling you out of that damned school. Do you hear me? You'll go to a normal school like everyone else."

"My dad wouldn't have just left me. He wouldn't have done that. You never told me about being a pureblood. He was one _wasn't_ he? Did you lie to him too? Did you tell him you were as good as he was? Did you hide who you were like you want to hide who I am?"

"Hugh, stop this." She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. "I'm tired. I have to rest and you need to stop talking about things you don't understand."

"If he was like you he wouldn't have left me. He wouldn't have cared if I was mixed or not. You lied to him too!"

Hermione's hand was shaking as she put the key in the door and pushed it open. Stepping inside she pulled off her jumper and hung it on the hook, telling Hugh to do the same. She ordered him to take his things to his room and stay there as she stretched out on the sofa, puling up a blanket that lay on the floor. Rolling over to face the cushions, she closed her eyes and tried to block out everything that he had said.

She dreamed of flames and crumbling walls, masked men and someone that leaned over her, his breath foul and putrid as his mouth closed over hers. Gagging and gasping for air, she shook her head, furiously trying to kick snakes and unseen vile shadows only to find she had no legs. She dreamed _he_ changed to a Dementor, the Dementor's face twisting into the mask of a snake, and of Voldemort eating a little girl dressed in yellow as a bow floated in a pool of blood. She called out, screaming until her throat was raw with the taste of blood, saw Ron turn away from her and saw Snape's billowing robes as he walked away. Through it all, she heard an old man's voice calling, teasing, laughing, '_Who are you? Are you one of his?'_

She woke two days later in St. Mungo's with no recollection of how she got there. Hugh jumped out of chair and ran into the hall dragging in the on-duty Mediwitch before rushing to her bedside and brushing her hair from her face, his own full of concern.

"Well, so you decided to join us." The Mediwitch chirped crisply. "This young lad has been sitting here reading to you and sleeping in the cot we set up by the window. You're a lucky sister to have a brother like him."

"I know," Hermione croaked from between parched lips. "How long this time?"

"Only a couple of days," the Mediwitch said softly. "The healer says you were physically exhausted so I don't want you worrying about it."

"I forget to eat," Hermione said, struggling to sit up.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it...you know…what I said," Hugh said, peeking around the Mediwitch's arm.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Hermione gave him a weak smile. "If it were I would have just smacked you. Now get over here and give me a hug."

"I was scared when you kept screaming."

"Screaming?" She looked up at the Mediwitch, seeing her small nod and quick glance at Hugh. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you I was sick once and it could happen again. How did you get me here?"

"Raven, I sent him. I didn't know what else to do. Some Healer came and took you, then came back for me."

"You did just right," the Mediwitch said as she finished taking Hermione's vital signs. "He said you just laid down and went to sleep. You had an argument? It could be the stress related. Anyway, he became concerned when he couldn't wake you the next day and you seemed to be having nightmares. Any headaches?"

"No. I didn't sleep well…what night was that? Monday I think. I went to Germany for the day…Tuesday I guess. I got home late and stayed up all night before collecting him from the station. Hogwarts you know. I must have been tired."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"It must have been…the day before I left…I think. I feel fine now."

"Three days? As soon as the doctor releases you, I want you to go home and eat. After that, you climb in bed and rest. None of this up at all hours. When you wake up you do it again, eat and sleep…that's it for two days. Boy? You make sure she does as she's told now."

"She does that. Stays up all night," Hugh said, peeking around the Mediwitch again and giving Hermione his best twelve- year old scowl. "She only sleeps a little at a time but yells at me for going to bed late."

"Hugh! Sit."

"He's fine," the Mediwitch said with a chuckle. "Now, who is taking you home? Your brother says you don't have a floo."

"No. We like the trains." Hermione gave a small laugh. "Gods, what was I thinking. I should have put one in."

"Who can I call for you?"

"There's just the two of us. Really, I feel fine and I can rest on the train."

"No, we will only release you if you have someone to take you. If not you stay right where you are."

"Professor Snape. We are staying in his house."

"Renting," Hermione said quickly. "I don't want him disturbed."

"You always disturb me," Snape drawled as he threw his travelling cloak on the only chair in the room and came close to the bed. "Her Healer contacted me. She is released into my care."

"She doesn't need much. Make sure she eats and gets some rest. She should be fine in a couple of days. We gave her a couple of potions to boost her system and one to calm her, just in case." She looked up at Snape with her eyebrow cocked, jerking her head to Hugh. "We never know for sure how these things play out and don't want a repeat of …"

"I'm down here. Remember me? The patient?"

"Mr. Granger, were you not invited to a friend's house?" Snape asked Hugh, ignoring Hermione.

"Yeah, but she said I couldn't talk bout him no more."

"Try again, Mr. Granger," Severus pinched his nose. "In English this time."

"Yes, sir. I was. However my sister does not want me associating with him."

"That is _not _what I said," Hermione corrected as she leaned forward to see around Severus' hip. "I told you on the train that I didn't want to talk about him non-stop."

"Good, do not talk about him. There is a floo in the lobby." Severus scowled at Hugh and pointed to the door. "Go."

He held up his hand to stop Hermione's protests. "I do not have the time or the inclination to listen to your feeble protests. Get dressed."

"He doesn't know the first thing about pureblood manners. He's going to make mistakes and …" Hermione snapped.

"And learn from them," Severus intoned, pinching the bridge of his nose again, a pained expression on his face. "Why must everything concerning you result in an argument? Just once, just once in your life do as you are told."

"Told? Told by you? I think not!"

"Well," the Mediwitch smirked as she left. "The two of you should get on just fine."

**~o0o~**

Later Hermione sat in the kitchen a bowl of soup in front of her and a glass of milk at her elbow. She ate a couple spoonfuls before complimenting Severus on his ability to open a tin and assuring him that although it was hard work, it was nothing she could not do herself.

"Hermione, you need to make sure this does not happen again. You should be thankful he contacted St. Mungo's and not a Muggle hospital. This is not a neighbourhood known for being helpful to strangers nor is this house that many would care to enter even in an emergency."

"I will. I felt tired and …I'm fine now. If you could let Hugh know to come home tomorrow, he will see that I eat. I did want to ask…how did the Healer manage to apparate here?"

"Hugo's letter contained the address, one that is on file at St. Mungo's as my residence. They contacted me."

"So, you brought the Healer? I should have guessed…thank you for that. Now, Hugh needs to come…"

"He will be at his friend's house three days. Mr. McAlister, son of Jonas and Rebecca McAlister. Do you need more?" Severus frowned and leaned back in his chair, studying her as she ate.

"I don't know those people. I want him home until I meet them and …" she stopped seeing his face darken. "I wouldn't do anything to harm him. You should know that."

"Yet you do so every time you let yourself slip into this condition."

"I think you should leave now." She stood and carried her bowl to the sink, putting her back to him.

"What else is wrong?"

"I went to Germany. For the book. Research. I found someone that knew Riddle after the Muggle war. Gods, it was awful…just awful. I did everything wrong. I even had to use a memory charm, and then on the way home Hugh called me a whore. If I wasn't exhausted I could have dealt with it. I wanted to write to you when I came home. I didn't think I should."

"He is twelve. He hears things and when they hurt he repeats them to get a response from you." He watched her start to wash her bowl and set it on the side of the counter, knowing she was stalling. "Hermione, I have never given you reason to avoid me or not to correspond anytime you have a need. You made a choice. Although I do wish you hade made it differently, it was not dependent on any other facet of our lives. If you put restrictions on our …friendship…that too was your choice."

"I did write to you."

"You asked only that I put a few minutes aside to talk to you. You said nothing that led me to believe it was urgent."

"I didn't think it _was_ urgent." She turned back to him and rejoined him at the table. "I'm worried about Hugh."

"I have little experience with boys of single parent households such as yours. However, I am aware that Hugo poses special…challenges."

"It's not that. He is changing. I don't mean just…growing up…but…changing. It is not _what_ he said. It's as if he took delight in hurting me. He is … he said he didn't mean it later but I'm not so sure. Between Germany, and what I learned there, what he said, my dreams…which I might add I have not had for a very long time and came back with a vengeance… and seeing you at…seeing what I did in …fuck."

"Seeing me?" He said, not even making the smallest effort to keep the humour from his voice.

"At the station, the day after I came back," she admitted. "I wanted to talk to you but you were already engaged in a conversation."

"About?"

"That we should move. You never meant to have us here this long. I believe you said only until I found somewhere suitable. I don't need to be near the train any longer, haven't for a while now."

"As Headmaster, I need to stay at the school this summer. I have no need of the house."

"You don't mind? You are sure?"

"To be honest, I think this house needs a family in it." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, putting his finger to her lip, stopping her from chewing on it. "Now tell me the truth."

"Severus, I have journals full of terrible things. Riddle was in Nuremburg. I found a witness. He…Riddle I mean… was already older than I had hoped to find…but it's the first concrete evidence I've found that he lived as a Muggle. Read a few pages of those journals, the ones on my desk, while I change. The pages I've marked…read those first. I want to know what your first impression is. "

His face became unreadable as he leaned back stiffly in his chair. "This is the source of your stress, you should…"

"Just take a quick look," she called back as the climbed the steps. "I won't be long."

"You believed him," he said, lifting his head from the journal for the first time as she came down the stairs dressed in a summer shift. He let his eyes linger on her longer than he should have, lowering his eyes when he realized she had begun to fidget.

"Yes. Yes I did. There is no other explanation for the paintings." She sat opposite him and watched as his eyes continued to scan the notebook. "My gods, it made me sick. Before I went, I didn't think there was anything that monster had done that would have surprised me. Why? Why would he have done it? He didn't do anything without a reason.

One more thing…Riddle's final persona, Lord Voldemort. The date on the picture coincides to his re-emergence here. Mueller painted it the year after the Tri-Wizards Tournament. I don't understand all the symbolism in the more modern pieces. I want to get to the museum in London and see it I can dig up a student of someone willing to help me.

Severus, it was always assumed that Harry's scar held a part of Voldemort that allowed them see each other's thoughts. What if Mueller is the same way? Vol…Riddle crushed his legs…or more likely use a Cruciatus on him, it stands to reason. "

Snape took the notebooks and placed them on top of the bookcase. "I will spell them to remain there if you do not rest. If you expect me to believe that your relapse was caused only from exhaustion you are not the bright witch I thought you were."

"I want his original German account. I'm missing something …it may be important."

"My guess is that your episode began due to your trip, not due to exhaustion. You did not sleep that last night you retuned, not because of the work you wanted to do but because of…"

"Stop it," she hissed. "I…I cast a memory charm on Mueller. At the end…he…he knew who…or rather what…I was. He became…agitated and… He was scared of me. Of me! It scared the bloody hell out of me to see him like that. I kept seeing his face."

"You did what you had to." He sighed loudly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Reconsider this project. It will change nothing."

"We always thought he was in Albania," she said, ignoring his comment.

"Yet have never found out where. In addition, you need to stop using the word _we_."

"Did Quirrell leave any personal belongings?"

"This quest of yours will become more difficult as you go on. I want you to stop."

"You want it?" she said with a small laugh.

"Yes, and your son. We want you to stop. You suddenly resent the meaning of the word _we_. How curious."

"Don't bring him into it. It doesn't concern him."

"Did the last two days in St. Mungo's concern him?"

"Severus, I can't let it go. Mueller was very clear about his mother. Riddle killed her, kept her body while he tried to 'bring her back'. He goes on to say, that _after_ Riddle disposed of her body, she came back and killed him. Impossible with a Muggle's knowledge. That's why no one listened to him. That's what he's spent his life trying to figure out. She attacked him in his sleep…stabbed him…in the throat by the way, good aim in that. Mueller wrote that Riddle fought her off as he bled to death…but if his magic was strong enough, and he already knew wandless…we both know he could have healed himself. Then, she came back the next day to …"

"I can see you are not interested in my opinion," he said, cutting her off.

"Not if the only thing you have to say is to stop what I am doing," she sighed as she followed him to the door. "You must be busy. I don't want to keep you. I did want to say I have plans to put in a floo if I stay here. I thought your room would have the space if I moved the wardrobe."

"I should have done it years ago," he admitted. "You, however, are to do no such thing. You are to rest and keep normal hours. I will make the arrangements when I have time."

"Yes, Healer Snape," she said, trying to laugh. "Listen, I didn't forget things…or become confused this time. That's the first thing I always notice. No, this was different. Slower…not…confusing at all."

"If you insist on lying there is little I can do. Since you no longer need my presence I will…"

"No, I don't _need_ it…," she said, studying his face for any hint of their old friendship. "It is good to see you, Severus. It was good of you to collect me and see to Hugh. I do thank you for that and of course congratulate you on your new position. I had hoped to…to see you again. I am sorry it took something like this to get you here."

Placing his hand under her chin, he held her face to his. "As am I. In hindsight, you made the correct decision. I am sure in your present state one more involvement would not be wise. I should have noticed it sooner. That is my mistake in this."

She twisted her head away from his hand. "From what I saw at the station and the tales that seem to be circulating it seems you _do_ have a witch in your life. Something you said you didn't want. I am happy for you, Severus. Turley I am. I hope it works out for you."

"I am surprised that you of all people would believe the rumours of school children," he said, smirking at her. "I will make sure Hugh returns in three days, which should give you time to rest and time for the sticking spell on the journals to weaken."

"You bloody git!" She ran to the sitting room and tried to grab the journals from the top shelve, finding it impossible to move them as she heard the back door close and knew he had left.

**~o0o~**

Hugh returned the promised three days later, acting contrite and guilty. Hermione shoved her research material under the sofa, pushing it away for the summer as her eyes went to the top of the bookcase, cursing Severus' idea of a _weak_ spell. She had made plans to take Hugh to the city and a stop in Diagon Alley one day, to the country for dinner at some out of the way resort the next. Planning the entire summer, she hoped to keep his mind occupied.

In a moment of pure nostalgia, she dragged him to church, knowing that her Mum would have been horrified to know how long it had been since he had prayed. As everyone lowered their heads, she alone gazed at the few statues that remained from her childhood, feeling them looking down at her as she studied the stain glass windows. She still found it strange that a place such as this, full of medieval concepts, could confuse the ancient texts with artist renditions of more modern times. She quietly slipped out of the pew and left the service. Leaving Hugh to come to his own decision.

"Sis?" he said, finding her sitting on the lawn. "Why did you leave?"

"Oh, it's just me kid." She patted the ground next to her. "Come sit with me. We need to talk."

"Don't you ever go to church?"

"No, not for a while now. I'll be more than glad to bring you. Just let me know when you want to come. Sometimes there are even youth groups you may want to join."

"Nah, Mum made me."

"She did me too." Hermione looked back at the church and watched as the last of the parishioners strangled out onto the steps. "I think it is organized churches that I don't like. When you get older and learn some of the ancient languages, you may want to try again. It will make more sense once you can decipher the works as they were meant to be read. You may even come to find some peace."

"I was thinking, about Voldemort. You know, during the service."

"You should wait until you are older to …."

"Why? He killed people younger than me. Anyway, do you think he could do things like raise the dead? Like Lazarus? The bible says…"

"Not even close. Lazarus had his soul, his mind…his free will. Voldemort may have thought he could do that, but no wizard has ever, nor will _ever_, be able to do that." She looked back at the church and wondered if Mrs. Mueller had been his first attempt to create his army of dead and if he had indeed tried to trap her soul.

Would that explain why Mueller's mother had come back, not as a mindless Inferi but as a mother seeking revenge? Without a soul, wouldn't she be only a puppet to someone else? Hermione looked up at the gothic steeple, wondering if he, like so many Christians, had misinterpreted what they read. Had he made a mistake and allowed the dead to think? To feel? To want? And if he had, who corrected him.

"Hugh? Did you bring home your history book? My old one didn't have anything in it on Voldemort. It was still too recent to have made it into the subject matter."

"Yeah, it's in my room. So, what do you want to talk about?" He toed the ground and looked down at her. "You said we could go into town after the service."

"Hugh, sit. I know what I said. We have the whole day." She tore her eyes away from the church and watched him closely as he flopped on the ground next to her, his normal pout on his face. "We need to talk, Hugh. You need to understand that no matter how much we want some things…we don't get them. Not now, not ever. We need to talk about you wanting to see you father. I thought if we did it here maybe it wouldn't turn into a row."

"Who is he? That's all I ever asked."

"All you need to know is that he was a wizard and he didn't know about you. He didn't leave you…he never knew." She reached out to push his hair from his face only to have him pull away from her. "I was seventeen. I couldn't take care of you so Mum and Dad did. They loved you, you know that."

"What was he like?"

Hermione felt her chest constrict and looked up at the sun, thinking furiously of what to say. "I don't know. When you are seventeen, everyone seems…different from what they truly are. You see what you want to see and think someone is a friend because of what you have in common, never bothering to see the differences or think ahead. Have you covered Voldemort in you History lessons? Up to the second war?"

"Yeah, some."

"He took students, sixteen and seventeen year olds. He recruited them or forced their families to make them join. It was easier for him that way. It's easier to convince a kid to do something because they don't see the truth and believe the lies. They see what they want to see…like whom they want to like…whoever talks the loudest or brags the most or perhaps knows the most magic…or has the most money."

"Did you love him?"

Hermione shook her head and saw the hope on Hugh's face fade. "At seventeen I'm not sure I understood what love was. That's the point I was trying to make. At seventeen no one knows what love really is." She reached out and touched his cheek, wanting so badly to see Ron's eyes, his lopsided grin, or the way he held his head. "I couldn't raise you. I didn't know how and I was sick. Like what happened when I fell asleep…only it lasted a very long time. When I was better I found I had lost whole years of my life. It was as if I were still seventeen…still a kid in a grown up body…I had to learn how to live all over again. It was tough, it's still tough."

"Don't you ever wonder about him?"

"No. Not at all. He is nothing to us. Nothing." She fought to keep her answers as truthful as she could, not wanting to be caught in a lie later on. "What do you say about catching lunch in town?"

"Sis…Hermione? Why won't you tell me his name? What would it hurt?"

She felt her pulse quicken as she put on a false calm and smiled at him. "It would hurt Dad. If he were here, how do you think it would make him feel?" She tipped her head up to the sky and felt the warmth on the sun wishing she could think of something to say other than the lie that sprang to her mind. "I made a promise. A wizard's oath…not to tell you. Even if Dad was a Muggle it still holds."

Hugh frowned and stared at the ground before looking up at her, his face unreadable. "The oath died with him. That's how it works."

"I'm sorry, Hugh. I'm sorry I can't change things, that I can't be a better mother, or sister. I'm sorry I am all you have." She sat watching his face until he looked away from her. "Hugh? I'm only going to say this once. After that, the subject is closed. If I ever decide to tell you about your father, it will be _my_ choice, not yours. Yes, he is your father, but you have no right, none what so ever, to put demands on me. It's my life too, and I am not throwing it away. Am I understood?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"You will never talk to me like you did again. You will not belittle me, call me names, infer that I am a whore or that I somehow shuttled you off to my parents because I didn't want you. I could not take care of you. Do you understand?"

"Like you were in St. Mungo's? Sleeping?"

"Yes, only it was more like my eyes were open but my mind was sleeping," she said, then gave him a grin. "I was nuts. Now, I fully understand that you have thought that all along, and that you are not the least bit surprised. Come on…at least tell me I'm wrong. That you never thought that."

"Do we have to move? Just because you had a row with Snape?"

"A row? What gave you that idea?"

"He doesn't come around no more and he doesn't ask about you like he used to. I thought you liked him."

"What ever gave you that idea? No, he's an old friend…a ….no."

"Ever since that last jerk dumped you haven't gone out. Not once."

"You know that list you accused me of having? The one that I put all the things we won't talk about on?" She waited until she was him nod. "Put Snape on that list too. And while we're on the subject…add all the guys that dumped me. Just so you know…there weren't that many of them. Now come on, help a witch to her feet. I'm starving."

Hugh grinned and got to his feet. "He said the same thing when I asked him if he liked you. He said not to talk about things I didn't understand and that the subject was off limits. Can we go into town now?"

Hermione watched him walk off, opening her mouth to say something, and closing it when nothing came out.

**~o0o~**

The rest of the summer Hermione spent trying to keep peace with Hugh. Although he did not mention his father, and kept their conversations away from Hogwarts, he still grew sullen whenever Hermione suggested an outing that was not in the magical world. She forced him to get up with her every morning to join her on her run, took him to the cinema on a weekly basis and bought books she thought he would find interesting on their weekly shopping excursions.

By the end of July, she was reduced to writing to Severus. Pouring out the story on paper about her short temper, Hugh's continued insolence and his attitude. She knew it sounded trite and not worth his time. Going as far as apologising in the same letter for wasting his time, she tied it to Raven's leg and pushed him off the ledge. Glad to see the bird return later the same day. She unrolled the paper she read his short, clipped, response, grinning as she did.

_Hermione,_

_He is a boy. Give him pocket money and send him out of the house for at least six hours a day. If you want to go shopping and sit in the cinema watching the normal summer fare, borrow a neighbour's girl. One under the age of ten would be preferable. ._

_Severus_

_**~o0o~**_

Five days before the start of term Severus opened the back door, saw Hermione sitting at the table in her pyjamas, quill in hand, surrounded by reams of paper and stepped backwards. Closing the door, he adjusted his robes and knocked.

"Get in here." She laughed as he re-entered the kitchen and hung his outer robes on the hook.

"It is a hard habit to get into. However, you were correct. I should not …."

"Shut up, Snape. Tea?" She laughed and levitated a cup and the teapot to the table. "Hugh's out. I must say, three Pounds a day does the trick. He not only comes home on time, he tells me all about his day. He even wants me to watch him in some neighbourhood game he's playing. I guess I'm not the mother I thought I was. I thought keeping him safe meant watching him every minute, not just keeping tabs on him."

Snape reached into his inside pocket and handed her two tickets to the World Quidditch Championship. "The Ministry made these available. Perhaps you have use of them."

"These are awful expensive." She saw the price stamp at the bottom and knew he had purchased them. "Severus? I can't accept these."

"Good," he reached back and snatched them from her hands. "You will have no objection if Hugh accompanies me?"

"Umm…no…I guess not. You will keep an eye…sorry. I worry. So hex me," she said , tying to laugh, then looked at him suspiciously. "You don't strike me as someone that wants a kid tagging along. May I ask …why?"

His hand went to the bridge of his nose as a look of a pain flittered across his face. "They have two seating areas this year. Professor Brown has reserved seats in the adult section for the entire staff. Longbottom, in a brilliant move, has awarded his best student an opportunity to accompany him."

"Ah."Hermione laughed and leaned back in her chair. "You want protection?"

"I do not see humour in this," he said, flicking unseen lint from his sleeve. "I am merely taking up the offer to join Professor Longbottom. I, being Headmaster, no longer have class to make a selection from."

"No, no you wouldn't see the humour." She broke into a new gale of laughter. "I'll make you a deal," she wheezed, trying to stop. "You un-stick those journals and I'll consider it."

He clenched his jaw and glared at her as he lifted his arm and called the journals that floated in and landed neatly on the table. "I am glad you find this funny. I, however, do not."

"I'm sorry." She bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laugh that she felt coming. "I thought you two were…getting along rather well."

"Sis! You should have seen me. I got three goals. It should 'a been more but that toe rag Donovan got in my way," Hugh called out as his footfalls thundered through the sitting room. "Did you…Snape what are…I mean…Ummm, Profess… no…Headmaster…shite. Bloody hell, are those tickets to the game? I figured you were too old to like Quidditch."

Hermione threw her hand over her mouth and left the room, knowing she was about to burst into laughter again. Pacing the sitting room as she took deep breaths, she heard Hugh charging back into the room to find her.

"Mum, Mum, please …please let me go. He said I could. He has a tent and everything with Longbottom…please. He invited me and I didn't even have to ask! Really…I didn't even hint."

Hermione looked over his shoulder to where Severus stood in the doorway. Her eyes welled with tears as she silently nodded her consent, unable to talk. As Hugh rushed by her on his way to pack an overnight bag, Severus crossed the room and lifted her chin. Using the pad of his thumb to dry her tears he smirked down at her.

"He called me Mum," she whispered. "Did you hear him? He called me Mum."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 14**

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Hermione bought herself a set of robes that year when she took Hugh to Diagon Alley to buy his Hogwarts supplies. Although she had promised him she would look the part of a respectable witch, she balked at the price and finally settled on a used set, all the while thinking of Molly and how she had done the same. Unlike the other short day- trips, they had made, this time they dragged his trunk along planning to spend the night, sending him off to Hogwarts in the morning. Telling him only that they would make an entire day of it, she had taken rooms at the Cauldron. Much to his delight and after a quick trip to the streets of London, where she posted another letter to Dr. Mueller, she then told Hugh the day was his.

"I've been thinking," she said, watching him from the corner of her eye as they walked down the pavement. "You need to learn to budget your own money. It's something I didn't know about until Mum and Dad were gone and I won't have that happen to you. It's time you had your own vault."

"Why?" He frowned, looking at her strangely and stopped walking. "Are you sick?"

"Merlin, no. I didn't mean it like that. I just think it would be good for you. I'll put what I would normally send into your account instead. You have the choice to make it last or have it all gone the first time you go into Hogsmeade. I'll show you how to work out a budget. It's hard to stick to it, but you're old enough to give it a go."

"Wh...what happens if I run out?"

"You don't eat chocolate until you come home and forget about sneaking a butterbeer."

"Perhaps we should discuss this logically and not act in haste."

"Now you sound like Snape." She laughed seeing his neck begin to turn red, silently glad he was taking up more Snape-isms as she called them, and less Mica-isms. "You do know the other students may find it…odd that he took you to the game. You may take a teasing. Are you ready for it?"

"He told them it was because I was Know-It-All Granger's little brother and that since you are some sort of hero around here he thought it fitting. Only then, he told me to shut up and not repeat it. It was okay through. Longbottom brought a fifth year that Snape didn't like so he told him to shut up all the time. Even more than me."

"I see, Snape at his finest." She couldn't help but grin as they climbed the steps to Gringotts' door. They walked between the new security- columns and Hermione paused to describe the changes to the building since she had first seen it. She pulled the door open and stepped back for him to enter first. At once, goblins surrounded them and blocked their path, shouting out orders for them not to move until their security force was present.

"M…Sis?" Hugh stepped backwards, getting as close to her as he could. "We can just forget it. I don't need my own…really….this isn't a good idea."

"Oh good Merlin," she said, waving off the goblins as she glared at them. "Fine, fine…take my wand. Hugh, give them your wand."

"Why?"

"You are a Granger." The tallest of the goblins grabbed it out of his hand before snatching Hermione's as well. "You are lucky we allow you in at all. You are not wanted here."

"Listen here…"Hermione started, only to be cut off by the supervisor, a nattily dressed goblin that strutted in front of the others, pushing them out of his way.

"State your business." He peered over his spectacles, glaring up at her, his mouth curled into a crooked sneer.

"This is Mr. Hugo Granger. He is here to open an account."

The Goblin leaned toward Hugh, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "A Granger?" he asked, turning his glare to Hermione. "Doesn't look like a Granger. Doesn't walk like a Granger. Take this pretender away. He can wait with you. Outside."

"Fine," Hermione grabbed Hugh's wand and held out her hand for her own. "Now."

"Sis, it's okay. I don't need an account. Really. I don't even need chocolate…or…Ummm…butterbeer."

Stepping outside she watched as the goblins closed and locked the door behind them. "Don't ask." She sat down to wait, Hugh joining her on the top step.

"Are they always like that?" Hugh asked after what seemed an excessive wait.

"No. I imagine only to me and Potter." She felt her face begin to burn and turned her head from him, trying not to laugh. "It would be better if you didn't mention this to your Headmaster. Do you know how to use a wand to pay for things?"

"Yeah, but why are they…Why did he call me that? Does he know who my…"

"No, he's acting like a prat to impress the others," Hermione said, chewing her lip as she thought what to tell him. "Goblins, as you will learn in your third year, have a way of …looking at the world…differently. They don't trust us and I must say I trust them less the longer I sit on this step."

"Why did they want us out here?"

"It's a long story." She heard the door open and looked behind her in time to see Hugh's key levitate out the opening and into his lap. "There," she stood and brushed off her jeans, "you do remember my list? Yes? Put this on it as well."

"Wh…what just happened?" He whispered walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the bank.

"You opened your account."

"You're joking," he grinned and turned, falling in step with her. "They hate you. Did you see the way he looked at you?"

"Yeah, well…they'll get over it. It may take them a few hundred years, but they will. What do you say we eat dinner here too? That or in London. Where to? Your choice."

Hugh decided he wanted to eat at the Cauldron again and despite Hermione's misgivings, she finally relented. She remembered the nighttime crowd was a little rougher than what had been there at lunch and knew that if they waited until later to eat the normally sedate dining room would closer resemble an American Muggle bar than the typical English Pub.

They had an easy time finding a table and ordering the daily special, they were served in a matter of minutes. Hermione crossed the supplies they had already acquired off the list and added up the cost as they ate. She was quite pleased to find the cost this year much lower than the previous one and chalked up to the savings to the price of the wand and the dress robes that she was having let out and lengthened rather than buy new.

"It looks like you will have a little more spending money this year," she said, putting the note pad away. "We still need to make another trip to the book shop. There's a couple of Muggle books I want you to read as well as one on my old Headmaster I want to pick up. They used to carry the classics. If they have them in the used section we may even have enough for that broom you were drooling over by the hols."

Hugh kicked her under the table and grinned as he jerked his head toward the door. Looking where he had indicated she saw Severus with the same witch she had first seen at the station. "It's not polite to stare."

"You think she's pretty?" Hugh asked openly watching every move the comely witch made. "You should have seen how she dressed at the games. Mica said she was hot. I wanted to sit up with the staff but we had the cheap seats. Snape wouldn't even sneak me up there."

"Eyes on the table."

"Well? Do ya?"

"No. She's…no. And those seats were _not _cheap. He spent more than I just did on all your supplies. I hoped you thanked him. It wouldn't hurt to send a note you know."

"The guys do, think she's built. They all say she's…"

"That's enough. Remember my list? She's at the top. Now, eat or go to bed. Anyway, that's no way to talk about any woman, witch or not. I'll not have it. Not her, not a stranger you pass on the pavement. Got it?"

Hermione pushed her food around on her plate trying to forget that they were sitting behind her, which became increasingly difficult as the witch's laugh kept filling the air. Thinking how unlike it was of Snape to be with a woman who sounded like a teenage girl gigging at the Yule Ball, she finally threw down her spoon in disgust. She could not fathom why he had wanted so badly to avoid her at the Quidditch game only to show up with her at dinner. _Wizards_, she thought_, pigs_. Having a witch on their arm was fine unless it interfered with their precious Quidditch and what she imagined was his penchant for betting on the games outcome.

"What's wrong?" Hugh asked, his own spoon poised over his pudding.

"Nothing, just eat so we can get out of here."

She crossed her arms and watched as he ate. She should have worn a dress, she thought. Jeans and yet another hooded tee made her look like an unkempt idiot. She stabbed her spoon into her pudding and glared at Hugh, urging him to eat faster. She should have at least tied her hair back, she thought, hearing the laughter again, or put on make up. She could count on one hand the number of times she had worn a dress since moving to Spinner's End and the number of times she had paid to have her hair done. Not once, she snorted. Tugging down the hem of her tee, she looked down at her frayed cuffs thinking it was perhaps time to give up comfort for some semblance of adulthood ,if not the dreaded _look like a girl _that would have pleased her Mum.

"You jealous or something?"

"Of what? No…of course not! Why would I be jealous of _that_?" Her upper lip curled and a look of disgust covered her face.

"We can trade if you want my pumpkin instead. You like pumpkin?"

"Oh," Hermione looked down at her raspberry tart. "No, I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought I was."

Hugh finished his plate in two bites and jumped up, his cheeks crammed full as he chewed. "Hugh, you really have to quit doing that." Hermione sighed as she put money on the table to cover the meal and enough for the server.

"Hi, Headmaster," he shouted out, earning Hermione's hiss to be quiet. "Come on, Sis. You said I should tell him thanks again."

Having no choice, other than fleeing and calling even more attention to herself, Hermione followed him to the table and politely held out her hand at Snape's introduction of Professor Amanda Brown. As the buxom witch took her hand, all Hermione could do was wish she'd had a manicure, hiding her hands in her pockets as soon as Amanda was finished.

"Hermione Granger? That Miss Granger?" Professor Brown said with a hint of laughter in her voice. "My, I pictured you … differently. I have heard so much about you and the pictures I have seen make you look…almost pretty. You photograph very well. However, you were much younger in the photos I imagine, so I really should not be surprised."

"So sorry to disappoint you," Hermione said evenly, hearing Snape's soft chuckle. "I understand you have taken a temporary position at Hogwarts."

"No, not temporary at all," Amanda said, cutting her eyes to Severus and smiling.

"Really?" Hermione turned slowly and cocked an eyebrow at Severus. "How is your retention of DADA instructors going?"

"It is well, Miss Granger. We have had the same instructor for several terms."

"That's wonderful," she said flatly. "Perhaps the curse will move on to a different department. If I can be of assistance in that, please, by all means, let me know."

"Sis," Hugh whined.

"Since term starts tomorrow I need to have a word with you," Hermione said, glad that she had managed to replace the laughter she had seen in his eyes to a scowl, all trace of humour gone. "I understand this may be a bad time as you are tot tending. However, it is important that I see you before your return to Hogwarts. Alone. Please."

Severus stood, telling Amanda he would be back shortly and followed Hermione to the back. As Hugh ran ahead with orders to wait at the bookshop, Snape and Hermione began to walk slowly behind him.

"First, yes, I know I was rude to her. You may give her my apology- or not- as you see fit. She's a tart. Younger indeed. Almost pretty…what does _almost pretty_ mean? Did she just say I was ugly? And- how old does she think I am? Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. After all, it's not as if I have to like her just because you're up her…seeing her. Now you know why I never had a bevy of girlfriends. I hate prissy witches and the games they play all sweet and nice then act like _that_."

"I see," Severus said, keeping his expression unreadable as he nodded in agreement. "Unlike how you acted. I understand completely."

"Shut up, Snape. Second…if you need to contact me…if there is an emergency with Hugh…I have taken a room in Diagon for the next two weeks. I was going to talk to you at the station tomorrow, but this is better. I would rather Hugh not know. He might worry and he needs to concentrate on his lessons."

"I see," he said, looking down the pavement seeing Hugh disappear into the bookshop. "I take it you are still bent on completing this…this book."

"Yes, partially. I want to stop in at some of the museums in town. Perhaps Mueller wasn't the only one that captured that bastard on canvas. I thought the Imperial War Museum would be a good place to start. If he was where Mueller claims he was, when he was, he could have been involved in the Holocaust. It wouldn't surprise me and may explain where he … where he practiced his depravities. I've been too focused on Germany and need to start branching out to the neighbouring countries. How's your Polish?"

"Abysmal, as is my Yaghan. I only mention this as if you keep this up you may have difficulties when you get that far."

"That's not funny," she said, looking up quizzically. "You were joking weren't you? About knowing Yaghan?"

"The only way I have found to make you stop talking as you were in third year potions is to take your mind off of the topic. In that it had the intended affect," he said, sighing deeply. "You are chewing your lip."

"Shut up Snape, I'm getting there." She stopped walking, moving off the main pavement where they could talk and not be in the way. "Ever since I came back from Germany …since my little fiasco in St. Mungo's…it's getting worse. I saw my Healer who thinks I would benefit by coming in."

"Drop the research. There is little you can find that will change anything and what you do will only make you …"

"No," she said, cutting him off."People deserve to have their stories told. I also think I know what happened to Mueller and Harry that they could both _see_ into Riddles mind. If I'm correct, I want the Ministry to comb through every fucking book they have on the dark arts and burn anything to do with split souls. Any reference, to any kind of tampering with souls, should be locked up forever or destroyed. And just so you know…Riddle got it wrong with Mueller's mother…the Inferi…he had help. He must have had. He was still young, still had not contacted any of the magical librarians outside of the schools. I know because I checked. I also checked where he could have found the information…we know he didn't get it right from Slughorn…he had to have contacted someone. I need to find out who and where he is."

"Stop. You need to stop this fanatical search you are on." He gripped her upper arms and forced her to look at him. "It is over. When will you let it go? Do you plan to waste your life on this...this…folly? Do you plan to make yourself ill for it? I must ask you, Hermione, to let it go."

"That is not your decision. I am only asking you to keep an eye on Hugh as any other guardian of a Hogwarts student has the right to do. You, as Headmaster, need to know where to reach me in case of an emergency."

"I do wish you well. I hope you put your demons to rest and can move on from this misguided mission you find yourself compelled to follow. I fear reaching your goal will not be the happy victory you think."

"The other day Hugh dropped a glass and I flew into a rage. A bloody glass and I would have hurt him if I'd had something in my hand."

"You wouldn't hurt him. I have seen you with him. Do you still think this …this quest you are on is not affecting you? I will insist you stop. If you continue…I will…"

"Insist? Who are you to insist on anything to do with me?"

"As you said, I am the Headmaster at a school your _brother_ attends. As such if I perceive something that may be harmful to one of my students, unlike the previous Headmasters, I will step in."

"I didn't know him. I didn't know who he was. I heard glass shatter and almost ...that's when I owled the Healer. Severus, I didn't know him," she said, swiping her sleeve over her eyes. "I imagined he was Voldemort. I can't go on like this. Just …just…just watch out for him, please. I'm afraid of what is happening. I'm afraid I won't make it this time. I have trouble breathing, I can't eat, I can't sleep." She wiped her eyes and tried to laugh. "Fuck it Snape…I keep hearing that bloody old man in my head. It's as if he's inside my head and I can't make him shut the fuck up. He keeps asking me the same thing over and over."

He pulled her into his chest and held her while she sobbed into his robes. Once she quieted and pulled away, he tipped her chin up. "What else do you need?"

"Only that. Only that I know someone is there if he needs it." She smiled thinly and wiped her face with her hands. "He doesn't have anyone else. Just me…isn't that a joke? I can't even get dressed most mornings and I am all he has. I should have listened to you when you said there were families that would take him."

"I was wrong."He placed the tips of his fingers on her lips to silence her. "I was wrong about several things."

"Were you? I'm not so sure. He should have a mother and a father with a stable home life. Not this. He had a good life with my parents. Now…what can I offer him? Me? Hiding up at Spinner's End? No friends, no family? I should have let Mary take him like Mum wanted. She knew I couldn't do it...she knew it. So did you. That day in the kitchen, you said there were people that would take him. He never would have found out I was his mother if I hadn't dragged him off and opened my mouth. I should have told him I couldn't watch him and given him away."

Severus lifted his arm and threw a cloaking spell around them before pulling her close again, letting her cry. When she stopped, he wiped her face with his handkerchief, chuckling when she swatted away his hand and did it herself.

"I've kept you long enough. You should get back to your witch."

Severus soft chuckle made her lift her head and look at him. "She is _not _my witch."

"I see," she muttered, pushing her hair back from her face. "I keep forgetting that you don't want one."

"Hermione, now is not the …""

"I'm scared."

"You have been so for a long time now. A very long time. It is time you faced it."

"Not like this. I saw something…something I must have forgotten."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, you've done enough. Truly, I feel better knowing he has someone to watch over him. He looks up to you. All he talks about is you taking him to the game. Oh, I opened an account for him at Gringotts. He shouldn't need anything…but, just in case. He has five years left in Hogwarts, I have enough in my account for that. Potter may take him during the summer if this goes wrong. Would you ask him if it does?"

"No, you will watch him yourself, that or I."

"You'll watch him …in case?" She felt her eyes fill with tears as he nodded. "Gods, that takes so much off my mind. I was so worried about it. You are good for him, Severus. I don't know what I would have done without you. Dragged him back to the states I imagine. I once thought of doing that."

Seeing her visibly relax, he took her hand and tucked it into his elbow as they began to walk again. "Incidentally, I must say, I am surprised the goblins let you in. From what Potter says his wife has to do their banking."

"Shut up, Snape. There are certain things Hugh does not need to know about. His mother breaking into a bank is one of them. Gods, he called me Mum and then I go do this."

"You do understand if we made a complete list of what you keep out of bounds, the boy would have nothing he is allowed to speak of."

"He told you about the list? Maybe I _should _just haul him out and smack him around a little." Hermione laughed thinly and stood on her toes to reach his cheek. Giving him a small kiss, she took a step back. "I've missed you. I…I just wanted you to know that."

"I do, Hermione. I do know."

**~o0o~**

Severus returned to the Cauldron while Hermione collected Hugh and took him back to their rooms. In the morning, she helped him cram his new purchases into his trunk and levitate it to the curb where a taxi waited for them. Hermione had a hard time acting as if nothing was wrong as she bid Hugh goodbye, breaking into tears and running from 9 ¾. Heading directly for St. Mungo's she felt oddly at peace once she walked in the mock storefront to the place that had been her home for two years.

"Miss Granger, I see you are ready to complete our sessions," Healer Clough gently chided her. "I hope you plan on completing them this time."

"I thought I was better," she said, smiling thinly.

"A natural reaction for …what were you? A twenty year old? Even that is a stretch. Hermione, you were mentally a seventeen year old making a choice we could not legally refuse you. However, now you are old enough to realize you are not the expert here. " The Healer reached over and patted her hand. "Every year we petition the Ministry to allow us more legal support in keeping patients against their will for cases such as yours. However, it is not impossible to start again. You need to understand that this time I expect your honesty and cooperation."

"I never lied to you," she said, looking down at her lap. "I didn't …tell you everything…but I didn't lie. I really didn't remember everything…most of it is still like a dream. I still don't remember it all…just some things are coming back that scare the bloody hell out of me."

"About Hugo's father?"

"Yes. That's what I never told you. I let you think I knew him."

"I have kept my entire day free. So…please…we've been through this before. I am sure you remember how it goes. We will start at the beginning. You were in the upper corridor and heard something you perceived as a call for help. We will begin there."

Hermione lifted her head and locked her eyes on his, nodding her understanding . She began to retell the story she had told a hundred times before in this same room. This time, however, she did not colour her words or try to hide what she said.

It became easier once she started. The Healer stood with his back to her, looking out of the window. Hermione knew it was magically charmed to reflect a street scene and not a real window, but the fact that she did not have his eyes on her made it better. She spoke of the final battle, and hearing a sound she followed into the dungeons, of her face pushed into the wall and the duel that followed. She spoke of Ron, his hand stills reaching for her and his eyes still open in death. She spoke of the rape, admitting that she knew what had happened but had only watched it, as if observing it happening to someone else.

She finished talking of leaving Hogwarts, her last foggy memory and wanting her Mum. She sobbed out her story of the memory charm she had placed on them and admitted that even as she had ran she had no place to go.

Healer Cough sat down across from her as she finished, his face showing nothing and handed her a box of tissue without comment, waiting until she had collected herself. "You have made your peace with your son?"

"I think so. We were fine until just recently. That's what made me come back here. All of a sudden, I am afraid …I don't mean I am afraid of him, I am afraid I may hurt him. I get angry…I want to lash out and I'm afraid one of these times I won't be able to stop."

"Tell me about Harry."

"Harry? I haven't seen him for a long time. We don't talk."

"Why? You just said you were close to him. He was the only one that tried to help you in the Great Hall. Tell me why you don't see him."

"He…he had a row with my father. He wanted to take Hugh away from him and raise him here."

"When did this happen?"

"Just before Dad died."

"How long had it been since you had spoken to him at that time?"

"Since…since the final battle."

"So…it is not the row with your father that is the issue. You had already avoided him for ten years."

Hermione looked at him blankly, not knowing how to respond.

"Tell me what happened again." He stood and again walked to the window, leaving Hermione to drone out her tale. When she finished, he again turned back to her.

"So, why haven't you spoken to Harry?"

"I…I couldn't. Ron was his best friend. I couldn't."

"It sounded like you were also his friend."

"He…he thinks I…Ron and I were…he thinks I cheated on Ron. That …it's complicated."

"No, it is quite simple. You never told him the truth. Hermione, have you visited Ron's grave? Or spoken to anyone of him?"

"No," she said quietly.

"Have you told anyone about the rape?'

"One person. I'd rather not say who."

"It doesn't matter who it is. Tell me, how did this person respond to you?"

She looked at him blankly and shook her head.

"Did this person seem…horrified that you put yourself in a position to be raped? Did they infer that it was your fault?"

"No, of course not."

"Of course not. Yes, but isn't that what you were afraid of?"

"Partially…perhaps…I …I don't know. Hugh must never know. Never. How can I tell him he is the unwanted result of a rape? "

"I want you to see Harry."

"No, I need to…"

"You need to put this behind you and you will never do that until you can talk about it and grieve. I also want you to think about what you just said. You did not now you were pregnant when you chose to leave Hogwarts, yet now…you say that was your main concern."

"Fuck," she spat. "I have grieved. I've cried so much I think I could…"

"No, you've cried in self pity and what happened to everyone else. You've cried for you parents, for the kid at the table who lost his mother that day, you've cried for everyone but Ron. Until you bury him you will never heal."

"What the bloody hell is this? Your idea of shock therapy?"

"No, my idea that Hermione Granger will only give me two weeks at the most and as such we have to take short cuts."

"Point taken," she tried to smile. "I'll think about it and we can talk about it tomorrow. Would you talk to him first? "

"I will with your permission. Now, sit back down. I have one more thing to say." He waited until she returned to the chair and flopped down glaring at him.

"I received an owl from Severus Snape earlier today. Shall I read it to you?"

"Let me guess. He said I lie."

"He did not put it quite that directly. He did say that I should be cautious." The healer grinned at her and gave a small laugh. "I hope you understand I did not solicit information from anyone. This is most unusual but once I have this knowledge it is also hard to ignore."

"You already knew I didn't give you all the information."

"Yes. I knew of the rape. Until you admitted it, there was nothing I could do. I also know if you leave, you will not come back. I want you to stay with us."

"No, that I …no. I…"

"For a fortnight. We need to look at your scar tissue to make sure there are no changes. It would give us the opportunity and if you are indeed seen here, you can truthfully say you were having a normal physical. Hermione, you finally admitted what happened in the dungeons. It is a giant step towards your healing. Now is the time to push ahead. Before our session tomorrow, I want you to think of why you avoided Harry for ten years. I want you to be honest with yourself even if you cannot be honest with me."

Hermione finally gave in when he reminded her that she was here this time for Hugo, and until she faced her fears and let everything in the open, she would never get beyond it. He pointed out that her long absence from the magical world was out of the fear of seeing old friends and not only needing to distance herself from the destruction of the war. She nodded her head and agreed silently, remembering all the times she had thought of Harry and wished he had been with her to share some small victory or to listen to her problems.

Every day for the next week, she sat in the same place and told the same story. Clough made her stop time and time again for a clarification, or to question how she felt abut a certain aspect. Handing her a pad of paper and a quill, he asked her to number the different scenes in her memory in the order they occurred. He waited patiently while she finished it, and then glancing to the bottom of the sheet, he raised his eyes to hers.

"Here you indicate that the rape occurred before you threw a hex at your attacker. You said that you got up from the floor and turned, throwing your curse. However, on several occasions, including the first time you told your story at the beginning of the week, you said Ron was already dead by that time. You made a point of saying each time that his eyes were open…as if watching you during the rape. If I check my notes from your previous admission to the ward…I am sure I would find the same inconsistency."

"He…yes, he was. I don't remember much…I remember laying on the floor…someone is hurting me and I am looking at Ron. He was…yes, he was dead."

"Yet in you written account, you get to your feet after the rape and throw a hex. Your attacker then retaliates and Ron is hit."

"Yes, I remember that."

"You can't remember both." He put the pad down and picked up his notes. "Tell me again. From the time you walked down the corridor."

"I've had enough for today I…"

"Start again. And again after that. And again until you can say it."

"Say what? Say I am done with this. I have said all I can so many times I'm getting confused."

"Tell me, Hermione, what is the worse thing you can imagine. What would the perfect monster be like in your dreams?"

"What?"

"Humour me."

"He would…Voldemort would," she snapped. "No thought to others, killing the innocent and moving on. What the fuck is this about?"

"Killing the innocent. Not just…killing? Must it be the innocent?"

"Leave me alone," she stood up and grabbed her jumper, making her way to the door only to find he had reached it first and stood blocking her path.

"Say it."

"Say what? That I want to leave?"

"Hermione, you know now. You know. You knew when you came in here and hoped to find out that you were wrong. Now tell me what happened."

"Bastard," she yelled. "I didn't …I couldn't have. I loved him…I loved him."

"Say it."

"No…please…please, it's not…"

"Hermione, it's okay. You're safe here."He lowered her to the floor as her legs weakened. Then stepping away from her, he listened to her sob until she began to stop and her sobs turned to hiccups. "You have to say it. Until you do, you are stuck in a hell of your own making. "

She looked up at him, her eyes red and swollen, and her chin trembling. "I didn't mean it."

"I know. Tell me what happened."

"I…I killed him. I killed Ron."

Clough turned his back on her and went back to staring out the window, leaving her in a heap on the floor to pour out her story. When she was finished, he helped her up and to her chair, handing her a box of tissue.

"You knew." She said in a whisper.

"Yes." He leaned back and steepled his fingers together. "I read the report the Ministry filed about the bodies they discovered in the dungeons. I couldn't think of another way your wand wound up where it was. If Ron had found it, it would have been in his pocket, or his waistband, you had already told me that is how he carried them. Listening to your account…how it kept changing, it was the only possibility. Hermione, you did what you could. Duels, in tightly closed spaces are the most dangerous. Not because of the opponents proximity, but because of exactly what happened here. You were seventeen. A child fighting in a mad man's war. You were injured. I am surprised you did not die as well."

"I loved him. I did. I wanted to die with him."

"Yet you treated your injuries. That doesn't sound like someone who wishes to die. Quite the opposite. You went to extraordinary lengths to save yourself."

She ran her hands through her hair, fisting it and wanting to scream as she did. "I didn't know what to do. I…I was alone. So alone…I …."

"The Great Hall was full of people who would have helped you. Didn't you say Harry was there?"

"Yes…but…I …I don't know…."

"Let's start again. This time start at the duel. Hermione, this time I want you to tell me why you feel guilty because you didn't fight during the rape and why you think killing the innocent and moving on is the worse thing that can happen. You didn't say killing the innocent. You qualified it with moving on."

"I…please, not today."

"Start with the duel."

"I …I couldn't fight him. Not when he raped me. I was bleeding too badly, the pain…"

"Try again. You were able to cast a spell, to duel, with that same injury. You were able to treat yourself, after climbing countless steps and after sitting on the floor all night. Yet, you expect me to believe, and for your mind to accept, that you just laid there and let yourself be raped because you were in pain?"

"Hermione looked at him blankly. "I don't know what you want."

"Start again. We will go over it until you do."

A fortnight turned into two and still she met with her Healer every day. Every day it became clearer that she had not only punished herself for throwing a killing curse, but had taken the assault of the rape as a perverse form of justice at the same time blaming herself for not fighting against it. Unable to forget the guilt and stigma, of both what she perceived as Ron's murder and her acceptance of rape, she had retreated inwards. Running away became her only solution, rather than facing what she had done not only to herself but also to the one she loved.

"I still don't understand," she said on her last visit. "If I wanted to be punished…or thought I deserved it…why would I feel guilty about it?"

"You threw the curse that killed him and in your guilt, sought some sort of absolution. That is the most obvious. However, it turned to what you perceived as a betrayal to Ron, a sexual betrayal. Perhaps there is something in you past, strong religious up-bringing or social norms that play into it as well. It doesn't matter, not really. What matters is that you have admitted it and should be able to move on. I do want you to do one more thing for me.

Hermione, you need to understand, and accept the fact that not fighting saved your life. There is no shame in it, rather the opposite. You can take pride that you were able to survive. The common knowledge is that by not fighting, women have a greater chance. I have no doubt you would not be sitting here if you had. In your mind, choosing to survive, to accept the rape and be able to live, became your ultimate betrayal. Not just to yourself, but in the fact that you did not wish to die with Ron. You said it yourself. Not just killing the innocent, but killing the innocent and moving on was the worse thing you could imagine. Something you did."

"You said there was something you wanted me to do? I'm seeing Harry this afternoon as you asked."

He leaned back at his desk and studied her. "You will still find it hard to change your habits. I want you to keep a journal. No, not daily. I want you to keep track of every time you cannot place your…emotions. Anger where others see humour, an insult you think someone made, but is not obvious in their words. Anything that greatly bothers you. We can discuss it later if you wish. However, the process of writing it down may let you see the truth in it and be able to sort out what bothers you."

"And Hugh? What do I tell him? How do I …gods, will it ever get better?"

"Yes, it is better now than it was two months ago and it will be better in another two months. As to Hugo, I am afraid I cannot advise you on that. Nor would I." He smiled easily and gave a small laugh. "The hard part of this job is not giving advice. However, I can give you statistics on the number of children born to rape victims. I firmly believe the numbers would mean nothing. Most rapes in this world go unreported, as would the resulting births. Nor have any studies yet determined if the knowledge is helpful or exasperates an already difficult situation. I would suggest taking it slowly. Determine if he is mature and stable enough to hear what happened. In Hugo's case, he has already lost one family, his adopted parents, and if he looses you, rather his perception of you, at his age he may not be able to cope. If you do tell him, feel free to contact me. I would be willing to help him or find someone who specializes in children."

"It sounds as if you are against it. I am. I can't imagine growing up knowing that you are only here because of something as awful as this. I want him to think he was always loved and wanted."

"As you should. Don't second-guess your mothering skills, Hermione. From what I see you are doing a good job."

"So, when do you want me back?"

"Daily if you are still concerned about your disfigurement. How are you doing about that? Any concerns? Questions?"

"Other than the obvious, no." She shrugged her shoulders and tried to smile at him. "All along you kept saying I had more important things to think about. You knew all along."

"Yes," he leaned back and studied her. "How is once a month?"

"For how long?"

He stood smiling, reaching out to shake her hand. "Until I have another opening in the lab. I will look forward to seeing your resume cross my desk again. I think you are up to any task now that you have seen your demon and know that it is memory you can deal with."

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A/N: I hope I did not butcher how a session with a Healer could have gone too badly. And, yes, I know real counselling could take several months, even years. I wanted to show that Hermione had already come to the realization on her own, and needed help dealing with it, not that this was in it's self what turned the tide for her.

A/N: Also... has taken down the function that shows the hit count on a story/chapter. I use this as one indicator of when to post the next chapter, sort of waiting until I think readers that have the story on alert have had time to read it. Since I won't know that, the next chapter will be posted on Fri/Sat. So much for counting readership...lol. Thanks for the more than kind reviews and hope you continue to enjoy.

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	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 15**

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After Hermione returned home, she received a message from Hugh. He upbraided her for not taking better care of Raven, which she found rather cheeky, although true. She sent back a long letter admitting to him that she had sought medical treatment, alluding to the fact that it was from her recurring muscle spasms and apologising for leaving a bird of prey to find its own food. Thinking it strange that he had used their private owl and not one kept in the owlery at Hogwarts, she questioned him on it, not surprised when her letter went unanswered, only making her wonder which girl he was sending owls to at his age.

She had twice met with Harry. Once at St. Mungo's, needing the controlled environment it offered. She had told him her story, her voice even and firm as Healer Clough looked on. Harry had only paced and nodded his understanding, looking to Clough for confirmation of the truth in it. Once Hermione had finished, Potter had left, saying he had to return to work, leaving Hermione alone, uncertain and confused.

The second meeting was for lunch in a public venue. Hermione realized her mistake at once. She had thought this a safer, albeit less personal, place to talk, but sitting in a Muggle London café she also realized it prohibited exactly the type of exchange he, and perhaps she, needed. They began to part with a tension between them that was threatening to pull them apart again, until, without thinking, she instinctively flung her arms around his neck and promised to see him soon. She had felt his arms weakly encircle her, then tighten and hug her firmly. With his promise to keep in touch, and get together soon, she had watched him stride away with hope that their third meeting would go much better.

As the weather turned colder and she finished reading Mr. Mueller's journals, searching the internet as she double-checked his dates, and revising her outline, she found the silence of Spinner's End becoming more and more stifling. Deciding that it was time to get on with more than just life within these four walls and her daily run, she spun out to Hogsmeade for the first time not setting an itinerary that included every stop she would make. It was cold, almost winter, she reasoned, and not too early to start preparing for her second holiday at Spinner's End.

She purchased chewable quills and a new teapot that had the Hogwarts emblem, red leather journals with her initials and the first pair of dragon-hide boots she had ever worn. Making her way to Dervish_ & Banges, _she pulled open the door, smiling to hear the familiar sound of the bell and smelling the musty air.

"My, my, Hermione Granger!" Mrs Banges rushed to her and grasped Hermione's hand in both of hers. "I had the privilege of meeting your brother. I was so hoping that you would stop in. It has been much too long since I've seen you. Much, much too long. I must say, you have grown into a beautiful woman."

"How could I not come? A trip to Hogsmeade isn't complete without a visit. You know this is one of my favourite shops."

"What can I do for you my dear? I know you didn't stop in to visit an old lady."

"I planned on doing just that! However, I am shopping for the hols early this year. Do you have anything you think my brother may enjoy?"

"You are most assuredly in the right place," Mrs. Banges said as she waved Hermione to follow her. "That brother of yours has been in at least a dozen times. All he ever looks at is this confounded mirror."

"What does it do?"

"It's one of a pair. One for the purchaser and the other for whomever they want to talk with. Marvellous, truly marvellous it is. You can see each other at any time you wish."

Hermione lifted her eyebrow and picked up the mirror, smirking at Mrs. Banges. "I am sure he would like it. What worries me is whose bedchamber the other one would be sitting it."

"Is he one that writes home often?"

"Not that often," she laughed, laying the mirror down. "No, I am sure the receiver would not even know of the charm."

"My, my." Mrs Banges clicked her tongue and waggled her finger in Hermione's face. "I will have to tell him it is age restricted. I normally do not do that until they reach their fourth year."

"Does he seem interested in anything else? Other than girls that is."

"Not much of _proper_ interest to a boy of his age, I am afraid…no wait. Here…over here. It is rather dear, one hundred galleons, however it can save that in parchment in no time for a young boy."

"A pot of ink?" Hermione raised her eyebrow, picked up the ink and held it up to the light. "This had better be good…writes in platinum does it?"

"Special ink…self refilling pot. There is more…" Mrs. Banges pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket and picked up a quill. Making a splatter of ink across the parchment, she then tapped the quill to the droplets and they instantly disappeared. "It is spelled. Therefore, even during the summer at home it is not considered underage magic."

"I wish I'd had this," Hermione admitted, smiling thinking of all the times she had thrown out a smeared piece of parchment only to rewrite the entire page. "I'll take it. That is if the spell for refilling is also everlasting."

"Yes, yes…he can bequeath it to his children it lasts so long. There is more. I hear the spell has been impossible to copy….one of a kind in that. Once he gets his parchment back, and no longer needs it, say …a returned lesson…if he draws an X from corner to corner it will erase everything, giving him a fresh piece of parchment."

"I imagine I need a special quill as well," Hermione said, realizing the ruse.

"A fair price. Two hundred and fifty galleons." Mrs Banges smiled sweetly as she took a quill from under the counter, and laid it on a piece of black velvet on the top of the glass display. "Self sharpening and lasts a lifetime as well."

"It better last three lifetimes," she muttered. It was an extravagant gift. One she kept looking at. Picking it up and feeling its weight she thought it would be a shame to have the boy leave it behind in the library only to be lost. "It seems more suited to a man's hand." Her eyes lingered on the long, slender and perfectly balanced writing instrument.

"Shall I wrap it?"

Hermione gazed at the quill again before setting it down, seeing it as Severus' long fingers would fit to it, and nodded her head. "Not for my brother of course…but you won't tell him it was I that bought it? Not that he would ask…just…he needn't know I was here."

"Certainly my dear." Mrs Banges smiled widely and waved her to the next display case. "I have a very nice wizard's watch. A small one it is, suited for a boy and not expensive at all."

"I was hoping for something to keep him busy. A watch is more something for his graduation I would imagine."

"A wonderful Quidditch…"

"No, we live in a Muggle area," Hermione sighed. "That's the hard part. Whatever I buy there isn't good here, and everything here he can't use at home."

"I have one thing…now where did I put that? Yes...come this way. Do be careful of the plants…they bite you know. Don't know what I was thinking when I put them in stock. Not one has sold."

"I'm not familiar with them," Hermione said, stopping to examine one of the plants. "What did you say they were?"

"I didn't." She picked up a feather duster and gave it a smack. "There, that will keep them down for a while. I'm not sure if it is the feathers or the hit they dislike but one is included with every purchase. The Muggles have a plant they incorrectly call Snap Dragons. This is from the original stock."

"A Snap Dragon?" Hermione laughed when she read the marker that had been stuck into the pot. "It says Snap with an e…Snape Dragon."

"The old spelling perhaps?"

"A prank is more…you know," Hermione paused and looked up grinning. "Will you have the lot delivered to the Headmaster? It would be a shame to let this pass."

"Shall I send the feather dusters?"

"No…let's just keep that our secret."

"As you wish. There are a total of ten," Mrs Banges bit her fingernail as she studied the plants.

"You just said you have not sold any and the cost of food alone must be a bother…three galleons each."

"Five."

"Two,' Hermione said firmly, watching as the smallest plant began to nibble on Mrs. Banges sleeve.

"Fine, fine…three it is. Now, come see what I have for that brother or yours. It is a rather old make. However, it plays Muggle if not charmed to change to our world…a simple charm. The instructions are on the bottom. I do believe a Dippit first owned it. Married a Muggle you know. Two centuries ago…I am sure of it. Lost it in a wager at which time I managed to buy it. A very good price."

"A chess set? He may like that. I could charm it for him…underage magic you know."

"Watch," Mrs Banges moved the pieces to show Hermione how they reacted. It was a lot like what she remembered from her own youth only here the Knight had a rakish grin and the King let out a whistle as the queen suggestively swayed her hips as she sauntered to the next square. Hermione couldn't help but laugh when the queen looked over her shoulder, giving the king a look of utter disgust.

"I love it."Hermione laughed, clapping her hands together.

"It is the Bishop that sets things right. He chastises the pawns if they get too fresh with her. Only two hundred galleons and cheap at the …"

"Cheap? I just overpaid for the inkpot only to find I needed a quill that had better come with a gold nib and a Muggle grammar check," Hermione sputtered.

"For you my dear…one fifty."

"For me not a Knut over one hundred and I'll have them gift wrapped **and **delivered."

"For you, one…"

"Careful or he gets that set of used luggage I have my eye on."

"One hundred. Will there be anything else?"

"There shouldn't be these," Hermione grumbled pulling out a bag of galleons, then shoved them back in her pocket and affixed her signature to the bill. Proud and smug that she could finally spend her stipend money without feeling guilty. "Do you still sell those stuffed dragons? You used to have a toy section and carried one that blew out smoke and a cold flame."

"I keep them in the back until the holiday shopping season."

"I want two, different colours. Boy colours, no pink," she grinned and looked up. "Do you have Mr. Potter's home address? Does he still stop in?"

"Well, my yes. These are for his boys?"

"Yes. I will trust you to deliver them the day before Christmas?"

The last thing she wanted to do was to have tea at the Three Broomsticks and stop in the stationary shop where she had spent so much time. Walking down the pavement, she darted into the robe shop, leaving her old jeans, tee and trainers in a bin as she stepped back outside, with new robes and pair of heels so high she felt she had just grown several inches. Seeing several students and realized she had stumbled onto Hogsmeade day and that although Hugh would still be too young to join in the trip, she turned her head to the window displays as she passed them, wanting to go unnoticed.

The stationary shop was as she remembered. Tall shelves stocked with parchment and quills, the smell of leather hung in the air, defused light filtered through tinted windows. She stopped to browse the rack of seals, finding one with a lion encircled by the letter G. As she was choosing a wax that would be dark enough to show off its fine detail, she heard laughter she recognised as Amanda Brown. Peaking over the top of the shelf, she was not surprised to see Severus with her.

Feeling disappointed and stupid for caring what he did, she grabbed the wax stick closest to her hand and made her way to the counter. Digging out two galleons, for what used to cost only one, she was again annoyed at prices.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes?" She turned feigning surprise. "Headmaster, so nice to see you."

"You've… cut your hair."

"Yes, I thought a change was in order," she stammered, seeing him still staring at her head.

"It is…a change." He said flatly, dropping his eyes to her face.

"I won't keep you. It appears Professor Brown…"

"Yes, Professor Brown." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "She has the ability, with one word, to bring memories of an old student to mind."

"She looks nothing like Lavender. She was much more…"

"You do remember Miss Lovegood? Behind you by a year or two I believe."

Hermione let out a bark of laughter, then turned her head to hide the flush she could feel crawling up her neck. "Sorry. So it is not her _mind_ that you are _attached_ to I see."

"In spite of the…obvious… challenges of working with her, she is an excellent teacher. In that, I offer no apologies. However, your constant inference that I am in any way…" he started, only to be cut off by a loud screech.

"Miss Granger…Hermione!" Amanda squealed as she rushed over to them and wrapped her arm around Severus'. "You brother is such a little student. He's adorable and so...so...so adorable."

"He is a student and yes, as a second year shorter than most. How astute of you." Hermione grinned. "Amanda, I need to talk to the Headmaster about him. Would you give us a moment please?"

"Whatever are you…Severus?" Hermione looked up alarmed as he grabbed her arm and hurried her to the door.

"This is the only opportunity I have for a quiet lunch," he said, pulling her out to the pavement, a look of relief spreading over his face. "The Three Broomsticks?"

Alter securing a table and ordering, they passed the time discussing the changes to Hogsmeade. He, explaining the changes, as he had on their trip to Diagon, she interested in any change of ownership. Soon the conversation turned to Hogwarts and the repairs that had been necessitated as well as the new lessons and their attempt to include subject usable in both worlds.

"Is this Cummings you spoke of the DADA instructor?" Hermione asked. "He may be helpful in finding what hex brought down the south wall…it was the north that took the worse of the giants if I remember correctly."

"Charms. I am afraid I am having difficulty keeping staff. I have lost DADA as well. He is leaving after this term, and no…he is most…unhelpful."

"That's normal. Whenever there is a change of control, some people can't adjust . I saw it in the Muggle world all the time."

"What brings you to Hogsmeade? More than shopping?"

"Shopping, also a test of sorts. By the way, I am still upset at you for poking your nose in where it doesn't belong. Your rather large nose I must add." She laughed as he became interested in stirring his tea. "I do appreciate your concern. I misread your intentions concerning my research and for that, I sincerely apologise. I'll have to fix you dinner sometime to make up for it."

"You owe me nothing," he said flatly, looking up from under his brows. "That needs to be clear."

"Yes, Mr. Can-not-accept-an-apology. Anyway, Clough said I should do things I used to like and what I liked was coming to Hogsmeade. I will admit that I am enjoying the day. I've spent a ton of money and even had my hair and nails done for the occasion. The only thing that I have trouble with…you'll appreciate this I am sure…I am to stop making useless lists. This he tells me after insisting I keep one."

"That alone should make your stay worth while," he said, a small chuckle in his throat. "You are the only student that listed what she was _not _including in an essay in the footnotes of each page to impress me with her vast eleven –year- old knowledge."

"Shut up Snape," she said laughing. "Clough also said I hate loosing control and that my lists give me that. I guess it's true in a sense. Even the footnotes made you aware of what else I knew. I don't think anyone else would understand that but you."

"Potter said he spoke to you," Severus said quietly.

"Harry? Yes…the last day at St. Mungo's and once since. It went rather well. I am pleased by that. When did you see him?"

"I approached him about the possibility of taking DADA next term." He frowned at her look of surprise. "Yes, it has come to that."

"That bad? Oh, Severus, truly I am sorry,' she said, trying to hide her laughter. "I am sure you will fill the slot. Have you posted an advert?"

"I had hoped that you could take one of the Muggle topics. I had planned to contact you over the hols."

"No, I have my hands full right now. Oh, by the way, I thought of Neville on the way here. Do give him my regards and tell him…tell him I hope to see him soon. Hugh said something about the Ministry granting Minerva private quarters at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, it was her only condition on her retirement. She refuses to leave. It does have its advantages. However, the students still run to her for help and advice, which is not in her best interests. She is ageing poorly as of late, I am sad to say. "

"It has been her home for longer than either one of us has been alive. I don't imagine she has any place else she feels as comfortable."

"You have not heard me to completion concerning the position."

"No. Severus. I think I have found my future in historical research. There is so much out there that I am finding we misunderstand, or not so clear facts. I find it fascinating. I will say my choices are much greater now. No more lapses, no more depression, no feeling tired all the time or angering over some trivial nonsense. Every day is better than the last. Listen, not to change the subject…which we sorely need to do…what I wanted to ask you...and I will understand if you can not manage it, we…Hugh and I …we both…you are invited for the hols."

"Hermione?"

"What? Just the hols. Well, I also do need to talk to you more…privately. Part of Clough's idea that I talk to all my friends. That's you."

"Have you visited the Burrow?"

"No, not yet. Perhaps this summer. " She looked at him quizzically.

"Have you reapplied to St. Mungo's or sought any other avenue to assimilate yourself back into either this world or the one you hid it?

"What are you getting at? I just told you what I want to do," she asked frowning.

"A very solitary type of work."

"Yes…and?"

"I thank you for the invitation for the hols. However, I must decline. I will gladly meet you at a more…public place if you care to have a discussion."

"Fine," she lowered her head and pushed her food around on her plate. "If your plans change, you are always welcomed."

"Hermione, look at me." He waited until she lifted her head and saw him studying her face. "You need to keep going forward, and that does not include keeping your misplaced loyalty to me. As much as I would like to take advantage of your hospitality, I think I will pass. You are free to pick up your life as you chose fit, which I strongly suggest you do."

"I have no misplaced loyalty. Is that what you were asking? Have I visited the Burrow? What in the name of Circe does that have to do with anything? I invited you to tea, not to my bed."

"I am no longer satisfied with that." He leaned back in his chair keeping his face emotionless, watching the look of surprise that transformed hers and brought more colour to her cheeks. "You need to rekindle your earlier friendships and look to your own age group for companionship. I am sure in your conversation with Potter he echoed the same concerns."

"I see. Who would that be? You are aware of the friends I kept. How many still live locally or are not dead? Harry and Ron? Those two? One dead, one married to a girl I thought I knew but wants nothing to do with me. Those two? No, I forgot about Lavender and the other prissy little things like her. Perhaps we could all go for a cuppa and compare wardrobes. Now that is something to build a life on."

"Forgive me. However, I am sure that you realize it is only a mater of time, now that you are sufficiently confident in yourself, to pick up your life again. You no longer need me and I, my dear, do not have time to tend to you."

"Stop it," she spat, standing up and picking up her robes from the back of the chair. "You must forgive me for hurrying off. If I don't leave now I am sure to say something I shouldn't and have to start a new list. Don't ask, Clough thinks it's a good idea." She stopped and looked at him, seeing his smug face and his smirk and the irritating habit he had of picking imaginary lint from his sleeve. "Fuck it," she hissed, rested her hands on the table and leaned over it, putting her face within inches of his. "I'll say it anyway. I've been told holding in my anger is bad for me. Now _you _listen to _me_.

First. Things will never be the way they were. I will never be invited to The Burrow. I will never feel at home with Harry and Ginny. I don't want to be. Why does every one think going back to what I was would be good for me? If it means loosing what it took me years to get, I don't want to. I like my life. I like having a son, and taking care of him. I like it just fine. And if he is the only one in this whole fucking world that ever loves me back that's just fine too. And he does. And while I'm at it, I bloody hell don't need you.

Second. I'll stay stuck in that dump at Spinner's End as long as I can. I'll work on my book, then the next and the next after that. I'll grow old living with Hugh, and keep inviting you for tea and hoping that you will come for the hols. Perhaps I'll adopt so many cats people will think I am odd for good reason. I'll put in a garden I don't take care of. Then, just to irritate the neighbours, I'll let the vegetables rot on the ground. I'll leave it to attract rats for the owls, of which I'll raise so many they shite on the pavement and keep everyone up all night with their noise.

So just, stop it. Stop acting as if you know what I want. It feels like a real home when you are there. I enjoy your company and won't apologise for saying it. Bugger off, Snape. Run to your little _not my witch_ and just bugger off. We eat at five. Decide what you are doing about it but don't tell me you're not coming because I have to move on. If you don't want to come, then don't. But, get off your high horse and stop thinking you know what's best all the time. Because you don't."

Severus sat in stunned silence and watched as she walked out and slammed the door behind her. Later, he would plan what to say to her. He would put together a speech in which he would tell her she had acted childish, had created a scene, and had once again misunderstood what he had said. But now, as he stared at the door, all he could think of how she had looked when she stormed out and wondered what had happened.

"Scared off another one, did ya?" Rosmerta muttered, sliding their afters on the table. "Don't sit there like a Hippogriffs arse. How long has it been since you've been invited for the hols because of your bright sunny face?"

"She was not speaking of the holidays," he muttered, his eyes wandering back to the door not knowing if he was correct, still trying to ferret out what he had said wrong.

"More the reason to go after her. No? Fine, have your pride keep you warm. I hear there's a cold snap on the way." She sighed heavily and picked up Hermione's empty service. "I talk from experience boy. How long you been coming in here? Haven't missed a day since you were a first year, I haven't. Not one bloody day." Her eyes travelled to the door where he still looked, then with a loud sigh she turned back to him."Now you get off your duff and get out there before you are down here looking for a take-a-way on Christmas because if you do, I swear to Merlin, I'm not feeding you."

After he managed to leave, with as much decorum as he could muster, and close the door softly behind him, he all but ran to the Apparation point, arriving just in time to see her spin away.

**~o0o~**

She put up a Christmas tree three weeks early and spent long afternoons baking cookies and stringing candy into ropes, wanting an old fashioned tree, something Hugh and never seen. Three days before he was due home, she went to the Ministry, where she once again secured a port key, and found Dr. Mueller as she had left him, pushing himself along the gallery talking to students, pointing at unique brush strokes and explaining the history of the piece they were looking at.

"My, my, twice a beautiful young woman comes to see me," he said, reaching up to cup her face in both hands. "Your hair is gone. I believe it was a good choice as I may now gaze upon your radiant face."

"And you sir, are an outrageous flirt." She laughed as she pushed him toward a bench that sat against the wall. "Here, for Christmas. I wanted to say thank you for all the help you have given me." She handed him a brightly wrapped package and waited until he opened it.

Spreading the red and grey lap robe over his knees, he smiled up at her. "Lovely my dear. Just lovely." He reached out and cupped her cheek, his eyes glistening with the hint of tears.

"None of that." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, feeling a lump in her throat.

"It has been a long time since…" He stopped as if lost in thought. "I am sorry, my dear. An old man's memory at this time of the year returns to better days."

"How do you explain your paintings to your students? Aren't they ever curious?" She nodded to the students that were making sketches of the paintings, needing to change the topic.

"Ah, the horrors of war, the artistic licence. All the nonsense they want to hear and might be still young enough to believe."

"I wanted to bring your books back and ask if I may also see the original. Although my work is far from finished, I also want to show you what I wrote on your family. I hoped you would make notes or make any corrections to the rough draft. Remember…it's not complete. It may not be for years. But I promise you, I promise I won't stop. I will tell your story…even if it turns out to be just one chapter about you. It needs…you deserve to have it told."

"Yes, yes…put it in the chair pocket…yes…behind me. Now, tell me how your research is going. Surely, there is more. A monster does not stop."

"I'm at a wall. Frankly, you are the only eyewitness that I've found from that period of his life. I really don't have any more ideas. I even went so far as to run ads in papers and magazine in areas he was known to be in. Not one response. I have searched museums, court records, and University records, everything I could find. Nothing. Not in hospital records, military, banking…all gone I'm afraid. I have used other names he was known by, his mother's maiden name, even played with his place of birth, names of his old neighbours, everything I could think of. Nothing."

"After your last visit I have thought of those times and tried to recall anything that may help you on your quest. Alas, I have not. It was, you understand, dangerous to be in the public. My mother hid us well from outside eyes. I do not even know the names of people whose houses she cleaned. I am sorry my dear. By the time I woke up in the hospital…all was gone."

"I didn't expect much. You were just a child."

"I have tried to remember the name of the one he spoke to as well," he said, looking up to his first painting of Riddle with a loud sigh.

"The …what?"

"No, no my dear. Nothing that would help you find what you look for. I have thought long about it and I do not believe I ever heard a name…or even heard him speak. I would have remembered that, not a name perhaps, but each voice is distinct…separate from another. Tones vary even with others in the same family. Accents and…as the light is to a scene such is the voice to the speaker. It is said that…"

"Wait, where did this man come from? There was absolutely nothing in your journals about a second person."

"My mother thought they were brothers." He leaned forward and whispered, glancing down the gallery as if not wanting his mother to overhear. "I saw them talk. By the river, they greeted one another with a handshake. A handshake for brothers? It seemed odd at the time. Formal, as if they had newly met."

"You are sure? He never spoke of this…stranger?" Hermione asked, glancing over his shoulder, seeing Riddle's eyes on her. "Where was this? Could it have been where his brother or the man that she thought was his brother worked? Where by the river? Was there a…mill, or an office near? When…before your…before anything truly horrific occurred?"

"Yes, before we truly knew him. And the river you asked…No, no…it was in the open. A parkway used to run the course of the water, a place to go in the heat of the summer. I assumed he was foreign as was the monster, perhaps because he knew the monster. Impeccable he was, as were they both…truly impeccable when such things were difficult. He wore new clothes. A thing we saw only in Americans at that time. However…strangely off. The colours you understand. The colours…old and not right for the modern world."

"Dr. Mueller, there was nothing in your journals about this."

"Because it meant nothing, nothing about the monster that lived in my home. He night time forays lasted only moments…then he was back."

"Dr. Mueller, what I didn't see in the journal was how he was able to ingratiate himself into your mother's life. She was older. At that time there was a certain stigma put on woman that saw younger men."

Hermione fought to keep her voice even although she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. A stranger by the river, he had said. A stranger that dressed oddly and in colours not right for the modern world. The same thing she had seen when wizards ventured out to the Muggle world for the first time and tried to blend in. Her mind immediately went to Grindelwald as her mind reeled with the implications.

Grindelwald would have been in the last year of his reign. A reign, if she remembered her history correctly, had kept him in the magical world since leaving England. Leaving England when fashion was much different, colours different in hues and dyes. Dumbledore by this time had left England and announced himself to be with the wizards of the continent, eventually meeting in the famous duel that had put an end the terror. Hermione wondered if in the last days, had Grindelwald sought the one wizard who he thought wielded enough power to be helpful in his final battle. And if he did…at what cost.

"Ah yes…" Dr. Mueller leaned back his head and looked up at the ceiling. "It was such a long time ago. I believed he was introduced to her by a common friend or perhaps she met him at one of the villas she worked at. He was finely dressed you see…as finely as those that my mother worked for. I heard of him long before I met him. Let me try to remember…no…I can not say for sure who introduced them. I will put more thought to it."

"Does the name Quirrell, Quirinus Quirrell mean anything? Perhaps a Gellert…a Gellert Grindelwald…however he could have used Gilbert or anything close to that. Or…perhaps was he of the upper class? A Lord…perhaps he was referred to as …Barron or another title?"

"Quirrell? No, not at the moment. And Gellert …no…no…not at all. However, I have several notebooks that I will gladly review. Odd names…odd indeed. Are they British as well?"

"Yes, but I think they met much later. The other books are they…"

"No…no, quite different things all together. You take up a couple of page yourself you know. My journal of beautiful visitors," he said, chuckling. "I write what I see. Mostly light, I capture the light in words, how it plays with one's perceptions, early sketches and things more suited to these marble halls. Your part will now be updated as I can draw your neck and how it looks rather than what I imagined it to be under that mane of hair you wore on your last visit. Most comely you are."

"I see. A bit of voyeurism?" She laughed and patted his hand seeing his wink. "What confused me…and I just need a clarification… you said Munich, you had left Dresden and came here. However, you spoke of the Nuremburg trails that were a year earlier …and elsewhere, perhaps I misunderstood. Where were you living at the time?"

"Acch…no, no my dear. We lived in Nuremburg at the time. For the work, you understand. My mother went there hoping to find work in the world that was left to us. With so many foreigners, there was work to be had there. The trials I heard them speak of were at Nurmengard. The Nurmengard trials he said. That I remember well. I could not find where they were being held, the name not on any map I have seen, and therefore as a child I took my…concerns… to where we lived."

"You were aware of Nurmengard?" she whispered, leaning forward on the bench again feeling her own heart quicken.

"I heard them speaking of it. How he hated the division of forces. How he hated each side taking control…"

"Wait, no…that was the Nuremburg trials, the Americans, French and Russians…."

"Yes…yes like that. Exactly like that. He spoke of other divisions. Divisions of family and blood. No Americans I must say, although I heard him speak of the new ways…and the new ways would have been American in those days. The Germans had their part…I am sure of it…Nurmengard is most decidedly Germanic. I am afraid this is something else I need to refresh my mind on. It should have been in the journals."

"It was…I…I read the names of the cities wrong….I …Where did you hear this?" Hermione was aware that her voice was beginning to sound hurried and harsh and made a concerted effort to go slowly, calming herself as well as him. With one hand, she put pressure to her left temple and fought to stay alert, feeling for the first time since leaving St. Mungo's an unexplained fear wash over her.

"I would lie still. I heard things….late at night when they thought we slept."

"From him? Nothing since?" Her closed her eyes and swallowed, wanting to shake him and hurry his slow rambling.

"No, not that….no I am sure of it."

"You thought of something, just now what were you about to say?" She leaned forward and hissed, having seen a flicker of some emotion behind his eyes."

"This man, the man, by the river…yes…a young man, older than the monster but younger than he was…I just remembered him clearly."

"What does that mean? Younger than he was?" She leaned closer watching his fight for clarity. A fight that she saw in the clouding of his eyes and the way he shook his head to clear his memory. The same fight she had seen in her parents' eyes in the moments after the memory charm.

"An impression that with him not was all as it seemed It was the day after I saw them speak…yes, I had quiet forgotten that, they met again. Twice I saw him. I had forgotten it completely. "

"Could you sketch his face for me? Nothing fancy, just a …face."

"I shall send it to you. Yes, I will do it tonight. I can see him clearly now. Not the dark shadow I had thought." He reached out and took her hand, holding it in both of his. "My dear, dear, friend. Do not upset yourself. It was long ago."

"How can you say that? How can you…" She looked into his eyes, then up to the painting and didn't see Voldemort's eyes following her, just a painting. A painting, that now seemed flat and lifeless. "Thank you. I have to go." She jumped up and started to run down the gallery and then ran back and squatted down in front on him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, you crazy old man. You have no idea…none….how much. This is exactly what I needed. I'll explain next time I see you. Just keep those journals handy, because if I'm right, if I'm right I'm going to need every one of them and more from that wonderful head of yours."

"I'll find my old diary" he yelled after her laughing at her excitement.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: Not Mine. **

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 16 **

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The next day found Hermione waiting in Kingsley's outer office, using the time to write down the questions she needed answered and the information she wanted him to release. That morning she had dressed for the occasion, taking care to look more professional than the untidy Muggle she had appeared as on her previous trip. She tapped her foot impatiently and kept cutting her eyes to his door thinking of Clough and assuring herself, that this was not the type of list he meant.

"Hermione Granger, he will see you now."Kingsley's receptionist stood to open the door, casting a look at the clock. "He was due in court ten minutes ago. Please make it brief."

Walking by the witch, her heels clicking on the marble floor, Hermione tried to make a comment only to stop when she saw Severus already in his office.

"Miss Granger," Kingsley greeted her, standing and indicating that she should take the chair next to Severus. "I understand from your note there are certain artefacts you want released."

"Yes, thank you for seeing me, Minister. I've made a list." She handed it to him, glancing at Severus who sat with one leg draped elegantly over the other, not having moved since she came in and making no effort to rise or greet her. "I don't expect anything today. I will make an appointment for sometime next week."

"I will be out for the holidays." Kingsley tossed the list, unread, onto his desk. "Perhaps, after the first of the year. I will contact you when I have time."

"Thank you. I will set it up with your receptionist on my way out."

"No, please. As I said, I will contact you."

"I see," Hermione said, looking between the two wizards. "You have no intention of seeing me."

"Hermione, some of the information you request is sealed. The rest will take a while to find …if it is not lost in the archives entirely, which I am prone to believe is the case."

"Strange, you didn't need to ask what I want."

"I am aware of your travel and have made certain…inquires."Kingsley held up his hand to silence any further questions. "You both must excuse me. There is an important case being held in the lower levels that I must look into. I trust you can find your own way out?"

"What is going on here?" she said, turning to Severus as soon as Kingsley walked out.

"There are things that you are not aware of that have to be considered. Certain security issues that you are not aware of."

"He doesn't even know what I want," she muttered, then paused as he looked away to pick up his robes. "Or does he? Is that what you are here for?"

"An entirely different reason I assure you."

"And?"

"And? If I planned on disclosing to you the nature of my visit I would have included you."

"You kept telling me to drop this. Was this why? Does he know something? Severus, listen, you don't know what I heard. There is more, much more. I think he, Mueller, had a memory charm put on him. I think he has been fighting it and is remembering things. I think that either the charm was done wrongly, or because of his journals…because he has fought so hard to fill in what he knows were blanks, his mind healed, filled in the void." She glanced over her shoulder at the open door. "Is that possible? Is it possible that the…"

"You read his journal. You showed me his claim to have reported a crime. When was this so called memory spell cast and who would have left such an important piece of knowledge?"

"I thought of that. What if whoever cast the charm didn't know he had reported it? What if they had used a memory specific spell instead of one such as I used on my parents, one that encompassed an entire time?"

"Many factors would have to be calculated. The age of the child, what memories were replaced, the age of the memories…if he saw something, knew something the caster of the spell was not aware of, and therefore that part was missed…it is possible that his memory has mended. However, it is highly unlikely."

"But not impossible?"

"No," Severus frowned.

"I am going to pick up Hugh…for the hols. We can talk about this when I see you. Severus, please…even if you are angry with me, come and listen to what I have to say. I need to bounce some ideas around and I think you may find it interesting."

"Hugh is not in the position to come home right now. It appears a certain conversation, overheard at the Broomsticks has already circulated. Specifically, a conversation that took place between his Headmaster and a witch that claimed to be his mother."

"Sweet, Merlin," she sighed sitting down heavily. "Now what do we do?"

"Again…it is the word _we_ that I keep hearing. A rather strange habit you are developing," he said, glad to see her redden. "You should have considered the repercussions before putting on such a childish display." He draped his robes over his shoulders, tilted his head back and looked down his nose. "Furthermore, your son, as he is now publicly known, needs to deal with it and not be pulled out early. You will appear to be nothing more than an overprotective witch coddling her Slytherin son. It will also give the appearance that you find your position something shameful, which I will not tolerate. You know how single motherhood is thought of in that world. Giving in to their bigoted ideals, by you reacting the way they expect, you will only feed into it. You and Hugh need to stand up and face them."

"You'll watch out for him?"

"I will not indulge him. If that is what you want, you need to see Minerva. I will watch him the same as any other student under my care. There is also a matter of detention he is dealing with."

"I see." She stood and glared at him. "Not at all."

"That is uncalled…"

"I know, I know…it's just so frustrating being so far away and him not having someone there for him."

"He will be delivered home when it is time. Is there anything else…_Miss _Granger?"

He watched as she strode out of Kinsley's office only to pause and return just to slam the door. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he couldn't stop the grin that slowly curled his lip. With a soft chuckle, he followed her out.

**~`o0o~**

Two days before Christmas Hugh came home, rushed in the door and ran into the sitting room to find Hermione. Snape followed, calmly removed his robes and hung them by the door then walked into the sitting room and ordered Hugh to do the same.

"You're not my Dad," Hugh grumbled as he complied.

"He is becoming unmannered, selfish and insufferable," Snape muttered, watching the boy slink out of the room.

"I see, only two traits I can easily attribute to his Headmaster. You have perfect manners." She grabbed her jumper and headed back to the door they had just come in. "'Hugh, do as you're told. I need to talk to your Headmaster. Alone." She opened the door to the back and looked at Severus. "It will just take a minute."

"I am unused to standing in the cold," he muttered, yanking his robes from the hook he had just put them on and joined her.

"Shut up, Snape. It's the only place we can go he won't hear and I won't trust a silencing spell," she said evenly. "I wanted to apologise from my tantrum at The Three Broomsticks. But don't think you're off the hook for what happened at the Ministry. We need to talk about that. Anyway, I am sorry _not _for what I said, because I meant every word of it…except for the garden…I hate gardening…but for the way I acted. I should not have made a scene…but you make me so angry at times, I just want to scream. I also wanted to say...I'm glad you came."

"We can discuss the matter later when we are not being watched," Snape said, nodding to the house. "I have always thought certain children use their summers to learn lip-reading. An endeavour I would not put past that one."

"How did he handle the past few days? I've been worried sick about him."

"He did rather well, much better than I had anticipated. It seems he inherited a little of that backbone and stubbornness of his mother along with a penchant of turning every situation into high drama and taking centre stage."

Hermione saw Hugh standing inside at the kitchen window and frowned, waving him away from the glass. "What is he so nervous about? I take it there is something he doesn't want me to know? I imagine it is the _high drama_ point?"

"Yes, however, you will understand….I _trust_ you will understand without another scene…that not every conversation I have with a student will be repeated."

"What? I'm his mother! If he did something I should know about it."

"It only takes one adult to discipline a child. It has been dealt with and will now be forgotten."

"I must say, Severus, if you had asked me a couple of years ago what you were like as a teacher I would have answered much differently than I would now. Your forgetting the past is something I didn't think possible. Now…what did he do?"

"As I would have answered much differently if asked about your mothering skills, and no…it has been dealt with. If he chooses to tell you that is his decision."

"Thank you." She tried not to smile as she nodded and glanced back at the house. "I do think that is about the nicest thing you have said to me but you should still tell me what he did. Should we go back in or stand out here a bit to let him worry?" she said, tying to frown for Hugh's sake. "He still looks more nervous than I've ever seen him."

He took her elbow and led her behind the shed, the only spot not visible from the window. "I seem to remember doing this as a teenager."

"What? Hiding from your parents or boys looking out the window?"

"No, using the shed for this." He held her face between his hands, pulling her close as he bent down and covered her mouth with his own. Expecting her to pull away, he was relieved when she raised her hands to his arms, as if steadying herself without pulling away. Giving in to the feeling of her lips, he pulled her closer, releasing her face as his arms snaked around her.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, finally pulling back enough to talk, seeing him watching her mouth.

"This," he murmured, again capturing her lips with his as she leaned into him, moulding her body to his and raising up on her toes to better reach him. "Has it been so long that you have forgotten what a kiss is?"

"I have a vague memory," she muttered back as she fought to control her breathing, not sure if her shortness of breathe was because of him , the bitter cold or the way he lowered his mouth to her neck. "You may have to do it again. It's that short term memory thing…I feel a relapse coming on."

"You said I should go to my witch," he said softly.

"I said your _not witch_." She reached up and laid her hand over his mouth. "Is that what I am? Not your witch?"

He pulled her hand from his mouth, kissing her palm. "We will take it as it comes. I would like to see there this goes, but I cannot promise more."

"Do you want it to go someplace?" she asked, her eyes falling to his mouth.

"I would not be adverse to it. However, I will not…Hermione, stop. Hear me out." He strengthened his grip on her arms as she started to turn away. "I dislike entanglements of which you most certainly are. Twice in my life, a relationship has ended …poorly. I have no great expectations in this area, nor should you."

"Just tell me if you care for me at all. I don't think that is asking too much." She stood, wrapping her arms around her waist against the cold wind, watching his face for any reaction.

"Hermione, I am a grown man, a successful and powerful wizard, hiding behind a shed, in the dead of winter I will add, from a twelve year old boy who seems to have his mother's penchant for causing trouble. I have been yelled at in public, bitten by plants that have taken over my quarters, and am trying to explain myself to what I am constantly being told is the brightest witch of our age…of which I now have my doubts. If you need to ask if I care for you, I must have greatly misjudged your intellect."

"It would have been easier just to say yes." She swallowed the laugh that bubbled up, making a strangled sound.

"I doubt you have ever been satisfied with one word answers. This would have been no exception." Closing the small gap between them, he again pulled her into his arms. "I take it you have no objections?"

"To seeing where this goes? No," she said as she reached up her mouth to receive a small kiss. "I think I would like that very much. But…I need to go slow."

"Understood." He nodded solemnly and took a step back from here.

"Hugh's going to be coming after us. We better get back in there."

"Would it bother you greatly if he _did_ see us together?" He scowled as he reached out and helped her settle her jumper back on her shoulders.

"He may not mind a sister snogging behind the shed, but his Mother and his Headmaster…that he would. Severus, he still doesn't accept me, not completely. Until he does, I don't want to risk anything. Not with him, and not with you."

"That's a start. At least we agree on something. However, I do expect him to know before you announce it at the Broomsticks."

She swatted his arm and laughed, taking his arm as they walked back to the house. Entering the kitchen,they found Hugh sitting at the table munching on cold chicken that had been in the fridge. "I'm invited back to Nick's house on Boxing Day. I can take the train and be back by six the following day."

"You just walked in the door. You plan on going today and then as well?"

He avoided her eyes as he kept eating. "I wrote him. He expects me on the noon train today."

"Hugh, you just got home."

"I need to shop. I can't afford what I want in Hogsmeade," he muttered. "This budget thing was your idea."

"You can't expect to buy Muggle things in Hogsmeade at a good price."

"Tell her the rest," Snape scowled down at him, his hands clasped behind his back, reminding Hermione of his stance in front of the potions class. "Surely she will be interested in exactly why you are over your spending allowance."

"What? You mean Natalie? Yeah, well…yeah, her too. She lives near Nick."

"Natalie? Natalie who?"

"Just a girl. She's in Ravenclaw."

"Ah," Hermione leaned back on the sofa and folded her arms. "I have to talk to Nick's Mum first."

"What for?"

"Oh, just to make sure you were invited and that's where you will be if I happen to check up on you."

"Fine," Hugh said under his breath as his throat blotched red. "I…I got her something for Christmas."

"If you catch the eight o'clock that gives you three hours to take the seven –ten back," Hermione said firmly. "So…what did you buy her?"

"A necklace, not a fancy one…but it's nice. I wanted to get her a set of mirrors, one for her and one for her Mum to use but they wouldn't sell it to me. That old Banges hag looked at me like I wanted it for something dirty."

Hermione held the slender strand of silver in her hand and complimented the half-moon pendent feeling her face heat up as she realized the mistake she had made in Hogsmeade. "Is she Muggle born?"

"Why? You said it don't matter," he said, not hiding the contempt in his voice.

"Again," Severus said with more than a hint of exasperation in his tone as he looked over the boy's head, watching Hermione's face.

"You said it does not matter if one is Muggle born or not." Seeing Snape nod he turned back to Hermione and rolled his eyes.

"A Muggle born girl may see this as something more than you mean it to be and her parents may think you …cheeky…too forward."

"I don't mean it like that!"

"I know, but here, in the Muggle world, this would have cost much more than it does in the Wizarding World. They may misinterpret it. She may be a witch but her parents don't understand the difference, not yet. To Muggles, jewellery can be a very personal thing. Not something you give a girl lightly, and seldom at your age, in that I agree. And definitely not something they know to be as expensive as this would be in their world."

"What do I do now? Headmaster? It didn't cost that much. She gave me a budget and I saved for it. Really."

"You give it to her in front of her parents and ask her father if he objects. If he does, you politely take it back and tell her, you…not she…will exchange it for something appropriate."

"That works?" Hugh grinned.

"Better than many of the charms you are attempting to master," Snape said with a smirk. "In her eyes, you will appear brave enough to face her father and in his, polite and well mannered. Although we shall know the later part is only a ruse."

As Hugh ran from the room and up to his room to get ready for his day, Hermione stood and smoothed her skirt, looking up the stairs after him. "I guess I better get this over with," she said giving Snape a thin smile. She climbed the stairs and knocked on his bedroom door, waiting until she heard a grunt she took as permission to enter. Cracking the door open she peeked inside, seeing Hugh. "Hugh? May I come in? We need to talk."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."She sat on the edge of the bed as he continued to sort through his cupboard, finding something he could wear to the Muggle world. "You've out grown most of those. We'll have to go shopping next week."

"Don't expect me to call you Mum all the time. Just because you made sure everyone found out."

"I didn't mean it, Hugh. Truly. They overheard me. If I had known students were in there I would have used a silencing spell."

"They said you were shouting and having a row."

"I was not having a row. I would never do that in…well, I would almost never do that in public." We saw him turn around and stare at her. "Stop that. I … my voice was a little louder than normal. You know how things…echo in The Broomsticks." She lifted her chin in an effort to look sure of herself, seeing him smirk at her. "I am sorry they heard but they would have found out sooner or later. So it happened." She shrugged as if there was nothing to it, hoping to show him that she was not bothered and that he should not be either. "After the hols, you are going to learn certain spells…one including verifying bloodlines.

Now think about it. If you still thought your gramps was your dad, and you sprinkled a drop of your blood on a watch glass, then the spell is cast, what would have happened? Nothing…it will show a negative. How would that look? Not something you want happening. It's better that you and you housemates know ahead of time."

"If I say my father's name it would."

"If you knew his name it would show a positive. Hugh, I'm sorry…but that's not going to happen. I've already told you that. There is also a spell that will show what percent pureblood you are. Only the mother needs to be identified by name for it to work. It is said, that the spell goes back to the days of Sparta. That's when the young were taken away at an early age and brought back…"

"I'll wait until the movie comes out," he said dryly.

"So, you're okay with it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," she sighed. "I wish things had gone differently for you. I don't know what you are going through but I want you to know if you want to talk about it…I'm here."

"I lied. I told them…never mind." He turned back to the cupboard putting his back to her.

"Hugh?"

"What?"

"What? I want to know what you told them. What lie?"

"I sort of made up a story. It was … something I heard."

"About?" she said, exasperation making it come out harsher than she had intended.

"Snape said that when Potter went to Hogwarts everyone treated him like a hero because of who he was and it went to his head. So, I thought if I told them we didn't want them knowing because of you being sort of a hero too it would work."

"I see. Am I to believe this was your idea?"

"Yeah, Snape just told me the story."

"Right," she said flatly, standing to leave. "Like a lamb to the slaughter. I guess it works as well as telling them anything else. Who knows? Perhaps they really would have treated you differently. I would have preferred the truth. You could have just said your mother was too young to raise you and you lived with your grandparents. Then again, remember the goblins? They seemed to know you weren't my brother."

He grinned and nodded his head. "What if I just call you Mum some of the time. It…you know, feels strange."

"I think I would like that just fine," she said, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Once you get it sorted out in your head, you come talk to me. Now, you finish up. I have to put the kettle on in case your Headmaster wants a cuppa before he heads back."

"Mum? Did you really send those plants?"

"Umm, well…you see…I was shopping and…"she stammered, then nodded, feeling her throat begin to heat up and knew it would soon be high enough for him to see as it rose above her collar and changed her face red.

"Bloody brilliant." He grinned widely and shut the door, to whisper out the story. "Longbottom said they liked humidity, so Snape had his elf put them in the bathroom. Did you know he is the only one with a real shower? Anyway, the next day he looked bloody awful. He kept scratching his arms didn't sit down. And today when he threw his arm to do the side along, I saw his wrist. Big old bite mark it was."

"Oh my gods." She sat back down on the bed, feeling the blush, she had dreaded only a second before, blanch and freeze on her face. "Does the whole school know?"

"Kind-a." He sat down next to her still grinning and gave her a small laugh. "That was right after they heard about you and him having the row."

"And?" she asked as he stopped talking, somehow knowing this was not good.

"Well, they knew the card just said Granger. Mica saw it. So I let them think…you know…just to stop the teasing…that …that it was me."

"Glad I could help you out with that," she said, laughing in spite of the fact that she knew she should be telling him what he did was wrong.

"Snape doesn't know though."

"Good, I would hate for him to think you did something like that."

"No…I mean he does. He doesn't know you sent them."

"Oh, Hugh…no. I appreciate you protecting me…but no. I can't have you going around covering up for me. Especially with your Headmaster...especially not now."

"I didn't want him to know it was you…and…you angry now?"

'No, I am rather proud of you. Not lying about the plants, but not sending an owl asking me to come get you. I know it had to be rough." She reached out and ruffled his hair. "You just promise never to lie to him again..and yes, not telling him the truth was lying. Shite," she hissed, pulling her hand back in horror. "The bites are magical. He can't heal them."

"That's what Longbottom said too."

Hermione ran down the stairs, stopping to think of what to say. Leaning over the banister, she tried to see into the kitchen, wanting to judge his mood. Hearing him moving around and the sound of running water she thought it was a good sign that he was putting on the kettle himself.

"My gods, he's only going to be thirteen in a couple months and already seems more mature than I was at seventeen," Hermione said as she walked into the kitchen. "He told me about the little story you put in his head about Harry and his being famous."

"It worked. Perhaps I could have thought of something better. I, however, blame it on being around you too much."

"Shut up, Snape," she laughed and was pleased to see his almost grin that she had learned to recognize by the slight pulse under his chin. "So, tell me about this girl of his while finish the tea. Then I'll tell you a rather funny story of my own."

"He will break up with her. She will cry, he will sulk and forget about girls for a year or so. It is the normal male passage ritual. After that time, however, the real problems start. You have time yet to have him neutered."

"The voice of experience I see." She laughed, finished measuring the tea and poured the hot water into the pot. "Do that much? Neuter them?"

"Only those of bushy headed mothers. That is, of course after making sure they do not want grandchildren. Furthermore, the experience comes from being the Head of House, full of hormonal teens for far too many years. "

"Grand…no…I don't even what to think about that." She laughed and swatted his arm. "Now, sit. I need to tell you something…it's funny…really. When we met at the stationary shop, I had just completed my holiday shopping and found the strangest thing. Of course, I thought of you at once." She chewed her lip and glanced at the kitchen door, hoping Hugh didn't choose this moment to come down. "You best put up a silencing shield. I don't have my wand handy."

With a wave of his arm, he complied not taking his eyes off her face. "More confessions?"

"A small one," she grimaced. "Huge didn't send the plants. Isn't that funny?"

"I see. I must say I am relieved. I was beginning to see a family trait the lad had inherited. Now, I still have hope that he will pass his O.W.L.s when the time comes. You, however, are still true to form."

"You needn't act like a prat about it."

"So much of a prat that you gave me a shower room full of carnivorous plants?"

"Now, Severus, I _did not_ tell you to put them in the shower."

"No, that was my folly for trusting the advice of Longbottom."

"I have Muggle ointment. If you take off your shirt I will be happy to apply it for you," she said with a frown, her brows knitted together.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and she could tell he had swallowed a smile. "I do believe in improper for you to rub ointment where the majority of the bites are located. It is not my arms that took the worse of it."

"Oh," she muttered, feeling her neck turn red yet again as she leaned to peak under the edge of the table. "At least you can still sit." Grabbing a small white jar from the cupboard over the sink, she handed it to him. "You'll have to smear it on yourself I'm afraid."

"I'm leaving," Hugh called out. "I'll take the 8:15 back so I should be home by ten."

"Mind your manners and…" She stopped at the sound of the front door slamming.

"The way he exits a room reminds me of you," Snape intoned, raising his eyebrow.

She sat down at the table, lifting her chin and pushed her journals across the table choosing to ignore his comment. "As I was saying…" She blushed as his chuckle filled her eyes.

"Must we do this now? There are other, more interesting things we could explore."

"I think this is safer." She returned to the papers that now covered the table and explained the confusion in terms and of her original assumption of the name Nuremburg. Starting with verifying Dr. Mueller's history the best she could through Muggle documents, she laid out what information she had of his family.

She told him of Mueller's father, a strong middle class railroad worker, a member of the church, who disappeared sometime around 1941. Showing him copies of a marriage record, she pointed out the mother's maiden name, Goldstein, and mused that it was strange that if she survived as long as she did that she had been living in the open before the move to Nuremburg. Hearing no response from Snape, she ploughed on, telling him Mueller's maternal grandfather had married a Bertha, obviously not German, last name Dippet. That was where the trail had grown cold.

''The first connection to this world and one I almost missed. I began to think it was only a coincidence then found a Dippet intermarried into the Riddle family. From what I found, Bertha Dippet does not exist. Not in the Muggle world and the Dippet family tree has so many holes in it it's possible she was a witch…or the daughter of a squib which is more likely given her age and the family information I have."

"Do you think this explains Dr. Mueller's abilities to see into Riddle's mind? Hermione, you know enough about blood bonds and soul transfers to know that is foolishness."

"I don't think so. Yes, it's rare…but not unheard of. The bonding…I agree there…there would have been some catalyst, some reason…love, affection, desire…no he clearly does not know who Riddle was and had no desire to know him.

I don't think his mother had magic either. If she did, she would have taken them out of there. She would have fled…or hidden the children. Even if she didn't want her own children, which doesn't match Dr. Mueller's story at all, she would have saved herself…no. She couldn't have been a witch and lived as she did. This didn't happen before the war when so many still believed the propaganda, or during when it was impossible for a Jew to move about. This was after the war…after and she still hid in the rubble. Hid…not lived in some damaged hovel…he said hid."

"How far do you plan on taking this? Is it your plan have a collection of horror stories now? When you first set off on this folly, you said it was to determine what caused the Dark Lord to become what he was. Quite different from what your now propose."

"I don't know. I may not use half of what I find but I need to understand. Anyway, I planned to have the Prophet pull their archives. If there is a link between him and Grindelwald I want to find it."

"Careful what you hope for, Hermione. Must I stress once again you should drop this?"

"So, it is bright and sunny out. Let's walk down to the pub and I'll buy your lunch." She smiled hearing the hard edge to his voice.

Severus remembered the pub, Sloan's place his mother had always called it. Her screeching voice seemed to echo in his head, ordering him to collect his drunken father, knowing that the child would take the man's wrath. "I would prefer not, there are more pleasant places."

"Oh," she said, her smile slipping, seeing his shoulders stiffen and his whole demeanour change. "I have ham. A sandwich? I can open a tin of soup. I am really good at that."

"That will do." He stood stiffly and walked into the sitting room, examining the books on the shelves, lost in sudden memories that washed over him. "Where have you stored my potion journals?"

"Top shelf, hall cupboard, upstairs."

"In the future I expect you to ask my permission before you move my personal belongings."

"Severus?" Hermione walked into the sitting area, wiping her hands on her apron. "What's wrong? Did I…say something? I only mentioned we could go out to eat. I thought you may enjoy it after eating at Hogwarts all year."

Hermione watched as he continued looking at the spines of the books in what seemed like an effort to avoid her. Looking at the sitting room, as he would see it, she sighed, began picking up magazines, and stacked them neatly on the end table. "It's a mess. The tree takes up so much room I had to take down the desk." She stopped and turned in a circle, examining the room. "Your mother never put up a tree did she?"

"No," he said flatly.

"If it bothers you to have one in your house I will take it down. I never bothered to ask you if you had any religious beliefs."

"If we are going out for lunch we need to leave soon. I would, however, prefer to take you to a place I enjoy much better."

"Severus," she said laying her hand on his arm. "I just realized how hard this is for you…to have us here. I think it is time for us to find our own place. You should have said something when I mentioned it. I know when I spouted off at lunch the other day I said I wanted to stay here, but just let me know and we'll leave. "

"No," he said, looking at the tree and hearing the confusion in Hermione's voice. "It is time this place…no. It is quite all right. It saves me the time of checking on it. Minerva was quiet correct in that."

"Has she ever told you to get out more? No? You're right…the pub has awful food. Let's go into London and enjoy the season. I can't remember the last time I had a good Christmas. Not since Hogwarts I'd wager."

"We could use the time to verify the identity of…"

"Oh no you don't. I want a fun day. I want to put on a new outfit and wear my new boots," she laughed up to him as she clasped his hands. "I want to walk between the shops and get so bloody cold we have to stop someplace for a hot drink and I want to spend an obscene amount of money on things that are completely useless and I will just pack away in the cupboard. I want to…"

"Have a typical Muggle holiday?"

"Yes," she said, rising her eyebrow. "What do you say? If you are real good I'll even buy you the best fish and chip dinner you've ever had."

"Curry," he said evenly, feeling his lip twitch at her excitement. "You will buy me curry."

"Curry it is." She reached up and pulled his head down until she could kiss his cheek then turned and ran upstairs, calling over her shoulder that he should at least try to blend in and change from his waistcoat into a jumper.

She pulled him into Harrods and to the gourmet food section on the first floor. Handing him the carry basket she filled it with her childhood favourites of imported cheeses, selected smoked fish and cured ham from Scandinavia. Not able to decide which of the fruit tarts she wanted the most; she took one of each, telling Severus he had best have a big appetite. Laughing at his scowl, she continued to heap the basket with condiments and plump Greek olives before spying the chocolate.

Giggling at Snape's look of disgust as she sampled one of everything she decided to pass on the sweets but bought a round of rolls, dripping with honey and nuts. Finally finished, she paid for their selection before pulling him to the upper levels.

"My Mum brought me here every year. I remember that first time I saw a life sized stuffed Giraffe. It's all I wanted from that point on," she said with a small sigh. "On Christmas morning I found a small one at the foot of my bed. Dad said they had shrunk it down just for me."

"Did they know you were a witch at that time?"

"No, they thought I had a brain tumour or something. They kept dragging me to clinics hoping whatever it was could be cut out. Dad would rather think that than to believe the doctors who said I was crazy. What about your father?"

"Watch you step," he said, spinning her around to step off the escalator, ignoring her question. "I will wait for you…"

She looked over his shoulder at the expanse of clothes. "There is a coffee shop back down on first. If you would rather wait there I may be a while….or books are up on ten. "

"I will wait here." He nodded to a small sitting area already half full with very bored men.

It didn't take long for Hermione to find the holiday fashions had either plunging necklines or higher necklines with halter-tops and bare backs, both of which exposed her scars or could not be worn with the bra she needed. The styles that covered her were too frumpy, making her look like the stereotypical schoolteacher or intended for young girls too shy and young to show more.

Unable to find anything she wanted, s he returned to find Snape waiting, their packages at his feet and a look of pained patience on his face. He stood immediately, picking up the sacks and walking to the down escalator. Taking Hermione's arm he led her out to the pavement before questioning her as to their next stop.

"So, where is this place that serves the world's best curry? I am famished and too tired to walk another step."

Severus stepped to the curb and hailed a taxi. He opened the door for Hermione before giving the driver the destination and after doing so, slid in next to her. Once he was situated, she wrapped her arms around his and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for today. I've missed doing things like this."

"It you are tired we can forgo dinner."

"Don't you dare! I am starving not sleepy."

The rode in silence as Hermione closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, woken only when Severus touched her cheek. "We are there."

"Oh." She sat up, and tried to get her bearings. "Where are we?"

"The north end. You've been sleeping for a while."

Hermione snapped her head to the meter, swallowing hard. "We should have taken the train. This cost a bloody fortune."

"You spent what must be a month's budget on cheese and worry about the cost of a ride," Severus chuckled as he helped her out, waiting until the taxi pulled away to shrink the packages and put them in his pockets. "I had hoped to fully use the time."

"Time? In the taxi?"

"For this." He leaned down and kissed her, lingering with his lips near her ear. "I did not realize it was after your bedtime. Perhaps we should return home so I can put you to bed."

She reached up and cupped his cheek in her right hand, stroking his skin with her thumb. "I took a nap so I could stay up late."

Turning her to the restaurant, he guided her forward. "Perhaps there is hope for afters?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 17**

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They made it home from their day out, only a few minutes before Hugh ran in, full of excitement and wanting to share his day. Hermione smiled and nodded politely as she fixed him a late snack, feeling Severus eyes watching her every move. After what seemed much too long, Hugh left for bed, thundering up the stairs and slamming his door.

"He had a good day," Hermione smiled. "I'm glad I let him go."

"Come here." Severus turned the chair sideways to the table, waiting for her, reaching out and grabbing her hips as she neared him, pulling her close. Lifting up her blouse, he leaned forward and kissed her stomach as his hands caressed her sides, moved to her back and smoothed the skin on her back.

"Severus," she whispered, letting her hands run through his hair, delighting in the feeling that washed over her. "Hugh may come back."

He pulled her closer, sliding his hands over her thighs to the back of her knees, and guided her to sit on his lap, straddling him as she did. Grabbing her head with both hands, he held her still as his mouth covered hers. Then, tilting her head up, kissed down her throat before hearing her soft moan as she relaxed into him.

"No," she whispered as his hands moved to her buttons. "Not that."

"Hermione, look at me." He slid his hands under the back of her waistband, rubbing circles on the small of her back and upper buttocks as he pulled back his head to see her face. He waited until he saw the shake of her head, and then removed his hands, helping her to stand. "I misunderstood your…offer."

"I'm sorry," she stammered. "I wanted to…I just can't. It's too fast."

He yanked her hand away from her chest and held it tightly with one of his, as he slid his other up and under her bra, letting it come to rest where she was missing her left breast. "Do you think this makes a bloody bit of difference? That this is who you are? That this is all I want?"

"It's not you…I know that. It's me. Please, Severus…not yet."

"Answer me," he commanded, pressing his body closer to her as he held her wrist in a vice like grip.

"No, but…gods," she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. "I don't want you to see me like this."

"Nox." The kitchen, lit only with the light from the sitting room, put Hermione in shadow as he removed his hand and stepped back from her. "Find another excuse or be honest with me. I thought you had put this behind you. If not, I would not have …"

"I am being honest with you. It makes me feel ugly."

He tipped up her chin and studied her face. "Has someone else hurt you as well?"

"No," she spat and turned away from him, readjusting her clothing. "I've dated. I've been…each time I was honest and told them they couldn't get away fast enough. I even thought once I should surprise someone…you know, just strip down and see what he did…that may have been good for a laugh. I'm not blind, Severus. I know what you thought when you saw it."

"Yes, I was surprised, but by the amount of damage done. I was not repulsed by it…nor should you ever think I would be."

"You only saw it…to heal. Not like this." She was glad the lights in the room were off so he could not see the tears that welled in her eyes as she reached her arms around his neck. "I want this. I do. I just don't want you to see me."

He took her hand and led her to the sitting room where he released her hand and kissed her forehead. "I won't make the mistake I did last time. You will come to me when you are ready." He nodded to the sofa. "Until you feel comfortable with me…until you trust me…"

"I do trust you. I …"

"If you did, you wouldn't feel this way. As you said, you need to go slowly. Since such is the situation, I will bid you goodnight before I am no longer interested in waiting." He tipped up her chin and looked into her eyes. "I want you when you are ready. Not like this."

Later that night Hermione sat on the sofa, unable to sleep, her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around her knees thinking of Severus laying alone in the upstairs bedroom. Running her hand over her tee she sighed and wished once again that she had never gone down to the dungeons that day.

It was a dream she used to visit often. A dream of what might have been and what she had lost. Turning to look out the window and the quiet street beyond the glass, lit by a single street lamp, she wondered what she would be doing right at this very moment if her mother had not died. Her time in the States seemed a lifetime away. She thought of the people she had gone to class with every day, and later saw on rounds in the hospital, sighing when she could no longer recall their faces.

Throwing her head back to the pillow she felt the sting of tears begin…then suddenly sat straight up, swinging her legs over the edge and to the floor. _Fuck,_ she muttered, as she looked at the stairs, taking only a moment to make her final decision. She made her way, as quietly as she could, to Snapes room and rapped softly on the door. Not hearing anything from within, she cracked the door open and peeked inside.

Severus rolled to his side and rose up on his elbow. "What's wrong?"

"I've been thinking," she whispered, standing just inside the door in pyjama bottoms and tee. "If I had never gone down to the dungeons nothing would have happened to me."

Severus pinched his nose. "You shouldn't be in here. If you want to talk I'll come to the kitchen."

"I don't want to talk. I want to tell you something. Listen…if I hadn't been in the dungeons that day I wouldn't have Hugh. I can't imagine that. I can't remember what it was like without him and I don't want to. And I never would have run into you that day in the parking lot. I would never be in Spinner's End."

He lifted the blanket, as she ran across the room and climbed in next to him. "This is not _going slow_."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No. Go on." Pulling her to his chest, he waited for her to begin again.

"I've been feeling sorry for myself. Thinking everything would have been better if nothing bad had ever happened to me, and maybe it a way it would have. But, I do know that I wouldn't have what I have now. I wouldn't have you or Hugh. I wouldn't be here." She sighed and rolled to her side, putting her back to his chest as he spooned around her.

"And?" Severus wrinkled his forehead, rose up on one elbow and peered down, trying to see her face in the darkness.

"That's it," she sighed.

"Hermione?"

"I won't take off my tee."

"I see." He pulled her shoulder back, letting her roll to her back, as he lowered his mouth to hers, his hands seeking the edge of her tee and sliding up her sides. Feeling her hesitation, he pulled it down and sighed. "Now what? Hermione, if you expect me to want a conversation I am sorry. I don't think this is the place …"

"No, I just don't want you to ….you know. I don't feel comfortable with you seeing me."

He swung his legs out of the bed and stood. "Get up and come here, we'll try something else." He walked to the chair where he had thrown his clothing, picked up his shirt, and held it up for her. "Turn around and put this on."

Turning her back to him, she lifted off her tee and slid her arms into the sleeves then pulled her pyjamas and kickers down and stepped out of them.

"Better?" he asked, his voice husky and low.

"I think so,' she turned back to face him, seeing his eyes travelling over her, feeling as if his eyes could see her naked. She stepped up to him and ran the back of her hand over the heavy ridged scar that ran from his throat down to his mid- chest. Lifting her eyes to his, unsure how to read his reaction, she saw him watching her intently. "This is from Nagini?"

"Yes."

"The others?" She kept her eyes on his while her hand slid over his chest, feeling the rough texture of his skin and the rougher scars.

"Someday we can discuss where they all came from. Tonight I have other plans and more interesting things to do than discussing old injuries. Yours or mine."

"The bites are almost gone. Do they still itch?"

"You are stalling. Have you come this far to have doubts?" He hooked two fingers under her chin to prevent her from looking away. "If you do not trust me enough to know I will not hurt you, we stop now."

"I need to tell say something."

"Hermione, no," he whispered, his hands running over her arms as he wished she would take off the damned shirt.

"I…I love you. Only that. I don't expect anything in return…I just wanted you to know."

He sighed deeply, shaking his head. "I'm not worth it, Hermione. You owe me nothing."

"Is that what you think? That I am doing this because I think I owe you? Is that why you…oh, Severus, no." She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and arced into his body, moulding hers to his as she felt her eyes well with tears. "I do owe you. I owe you a lot…more than you will ever understand…but not this. And don't think I am doing this for you…I want it. Me. I want to be selfish for a change and take what I want."

Lowering her arms from around his neck, he again dragged her mouth to his. After she stopped struggling, he pulled away just enough to talk. "I have to ask you one question. Do you ever shut up?"

''Only when I am otherwise occupied," she grinned into his mouth.

"Then I'll have to keep you busy." He walked her backwards to the bed, only stopping when the back of her legs hit its edge. "Perhaps skipping the introductory lessons and going straight to the main subject will keep you quiet. I warn you, there will be an exam."

Pushing her to the mattress, he knelt over her, kissing her deeply as his hands slid over her and her arms reached for him. Whispering to her to hold on, he rose up, her clinging to him, and moved her to the middle of the bed. Seeing a look of fear flicker over her face as he took position between her legs, he rolled to the side and pulled her back into his chest.

"Talk to me," he nuzzled her ear as he held her firmly. "Tell me what you are scared of.''

"I thought I could do this…I want to."

"Hermione, you shouldn't be here." He released her waist and rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling.

She flipped over to the other side to watch him, then scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. "Put the lights on," she whispered and waited until the lone candle on the nightstand flickered on, leaving that and the light from a street lamp that shone against the far wall the only illumination. She put one arm over his chest and her top leg over his.

"I was afraid. Not of you," she rose up on one elbow and peered down at him. "When I couldn't see your face. Severus? Are you angry?"

"Of all the things you could possibly think I am, angry is not one of them. Although frustration ranks high at the moment," he chuckled and lifted his arm so she could lay her head on his chest as his arm laid over her.

She kissed his scar and sighed as she let her fingers explore his skin feeling his own hands begin a slow exploration of her. She felt him pull the shirt up high on her hips, his hands slipping under the hem as he kissed and nipped at every exposed place he found. This time when he knelt above her, she could see him, know it was he, and not remember the dungeons, not remember the hurt and the pain. This time, she greeted each new sensation with wonder, yearning for more, and took solace in his look of concern, as he returned his eyes to hers after each soft sound she made. Each move, each thrust was gentle and drove her to meet him, drove her to want to give him more than he sought.

This time, the only tears she shed was when he stiffened, plunged into her one final time, and held still only to gather her into his arms and hold her so tightly she found it difficult to breathe. She pressed her hand over his heart, feeling it beat against her palm, felt his breath stop, his muscles tense, and whispered his name as her tears spilled and he spilled into her. Then, kissing her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally settling on a lingering kiss, he rolled to his side, dragging her with him.

"Are you okay? he asked breathlessly, panting out his concern. "You're crying."

She nodded and sighed, wrapping her arms around him. "Because I love you."

He raised his head to watch her face, lifting his eyebrow. "I see."

She dragged his shirtsleeve across her face and sniffed, tipping her head up to watch him. Seeing him nod his understanding, she gave him a squeeze and a smile. "I should go back downstairs."

"Stay."

"If Hugh wakes he …"

"Not yet, just stay a while."

"You said before that you didn't want any involvements," she said after a few moments had passed. "So, when did you change your mind?"

"Stop." He sighed and tightened his grip on her. After a few minutes he gently pushed her away and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, calling 'Accio waistcoat' followed with a 'Lumos' that flooded the room in light. "Stay right where you are," he told her as he pulled out an envelope and turned back to her, pulling the sheet to cover himself. ''Read this."

She sat up, pulling his shirt down, and took the envelope. Seeing the seal of the Ministry, she frowned and looked up at him.

"Before you open it, you need to understand, I did not mean this as a way to gain you favour. This is why I did not give it to you earlier. Your consenting to be with me is quite separate from this."

She grinned as she pulled out the parchment and began to read. Snapping her head up to she tried to talk, only to find it impossible to speak.

"That is one reaction I never considered. I expected you to either throw it back in my face or to claim I was only doing it for…for this," he said, indicating the bed. "Does that look like I plan on leaving anytime soon?"

Hermione again lowered her head to Hugh's birth certificate which she held in her hand. The name Severus Snape listed as father. "I can't let you do this. Severus...no…it's too much."

"As soon as it was known he was _yours_, it became imperative that his certificate be corrected. Hermione, in this world he will be ostracised if the father's name is blank. It would be a determining factor in his future here. We can argue about it if you like, which I know you are inclined to do. However, his further education, apprentice programs, acceptance into the Ministry, all will be out of his reach if his lineage is in question. Yes, it is wrong. Unfortunately it is the way it is."

"What does it do to you? No, I can't let you do this. No. What will they say of you? What will…it would mean you had taken advantage of a student. I won't have that! It will mean he inherits everything you own and can lay claim to support until he is of age. No, Severus. No."

"You were a student, yes, but of age and one that had not returned for her seventh year. If you remember correctly, at that time I was one of Voldemort's bastards. Let them think what they like about me, but do not put your son at risk."

"If I let this go through he is your son. Do you understand what that means? All of it?"

"That I had sex with his mother?" he said, raising his eyebrow.

She laid the certificate back on the nightstand and fell back against the pillow. "Who's to say he even wants to stay in your world? No, I'll think of something else. Now get back here."

"I agree," he smirked. "We have other things to do. I believe you have not finished."

"No. I mean it, Severus. I won't do this, not to you. I appreciate the offer, I do…but…no."

He crawled back in bed and uttered a Nox before pulling him over his chest. "I do hope you are talking about Hugh and not my comment that you need to finish what I started. "

"Stop," she grinned, a blush crawling up her neck.

"Then sleep," he sighed and pushed her head down to his shoulder. "We will discuss it in the morning."

"Sleep?" she tipped her head up and frowned at him. "Oh, I don't think so Mister."

He grinned and rolled her to her back, kissing her soundly. "What did you have in mind?"

She reached up and stroked his cheek. "Severus? The light…leave it on again. I have to see you."

He muttered an incantation to light the single candle as she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her head, seeking to meet his lips.

**~o0o~**

Hermione stretched as she woke, feeling Severus' arm tighten around her waist and pull her closer. "Go back to sleep."

"I have to go," she whispered.

"It's still dark and I have a promise to keep if it kills me," he muttered, lifting his head to kiss her neck before falling back on the pillow. "I obviously need more practice."

"One thing you don't need is practice," she chuckled. "I might add you gave a brilliant presentation. I am, however, concerned about the exam. I may have to revise."

"If I had the energy I would thank you properly for that comment. However, as it is, please allow me to bask in the glow of your compliment."

"Hugh will be up soon and if I'm not on the sofa he's going to be wonderingwhere I am."

"He's a big boy," Severus yawned. "Let him find his own…"

"Don't you dare," she snorted out a laugh as she rolled to her back so she could watch his face. "Your shirt needs cleaning. I'll toss it in the washer if you want to go back to sleep. After all, you were up most of the night, you must be tired."

"Leave it on. I have another." He opened one eye as he slid his hand under the shirt, which had rose up over her hips, stroking her stomach in ever widening circles, until his hand reached the apex of her legs where it let it stay. "It smells like you now. I can use it for unspeakable things when I return to Hogwarts."

"You wouldn't dare. Oh, my gods, why did you have to say that?" she laughed. "Now I won't be able to get that picture out of my mind."

"Excellent. My goal has been obtained. I do, however, plan to use the shirt to make you remember not to leave my bed for long periods. Your doing so will only reduce me to gross depravity."

"Now let me go. I have to get up." She traced his jaw line with her finger, wanting to lean over him and feel his arms drag her to his body again. She grinned to see him twitch his nose before opening his eyes again only to be startled when he grabbed her hand and pulled it under the blankets to his erection.

"Stay. It may prove interesting and you need your rest. I will be more than glad to do the _hard_ part."

"I take it you enjoyed last night?" she said, unable to stop laughing at him. "What has gotten into you? Where is my Severus Snape?"

"Taking a holiday and what has gotten into you is more to the point," he said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"That's it," she said, lifting his arm up and scooting out from under it. "I am going down to put the kettle on. You can go back to sleep or join me."

"Wait," he rose up on one elbow, grabbing her arm and pulling her back down to the mattress and scowling. "How are you this morning? Be honest with me."

"I'm fine, I am, Severus," she whispered, seeing the concern in his eyes.

"Do you need to talk about it?" He ran the pad of his thumb over he lips until she smiled and shook her head before he released her arm. "Once you learn to let go…to give in…"

"It was fine, Severus, truly it was." She frowned and lowered her eyes, not able to take his piercing stare.

"It's to be expected. Once you gain more experience it will be more pleasurable." He leaned down and kissed her lightly. "I plan on helping you with that."

"Not now," she said, grinning. "Hugh's going to be up soon."

"I know a much quicker method." He released her and cocked his eyebrow at her. "It will be on the exam."

"Stop." She jumped up laughing and began collecting her clothes, which lay on the floor where she had left them, and made a dash down the hallway to the bathroom. Reaching out for the door handle, she jumped back in surprise when Hugh opened it from the inside.

"Oh, morning," he yawned. "Breakfast ready?"

"Umm." She looked back over her shoulder hoping she had closed Snape's door only to see it standing open. "As soon as I am finished dressing. I thought I had best put something on since we have company."

She tried to step around Hugh and hurry into the bathroom, holding her clothes in front of her to hide the shirt. _Shite_, she thought, _shite, shite, shite_.

"Mum?" Hugh said, rubbing his eyes. "What are you wearing?"

"A nightshirt. I went shopping yesterday. Remember?"

"It looks like one of my old ones." He turned and slowly made his way back, then turned around and looked at her oddly. "You're putting on your Pyjamas?"

She heard Servers' soft chuckle as she closed the door to the bathroom, feeling her neck heat up and the blush reach her face. Looking in the mirror, she ran her hand through her hair and smiled, then lifted his shirt to her face, smelling his aftershave mixed with the musky smell of their sweat and the undeniable scent of sex. Remembering what he had said she laughed and found herself thinking of a way to run back to bed with Hugh down the hall.

**~o0o~**

Later as Hugh and Severus finished their breakfast and Hermione was doing dishes the doorbell rang, causing all three to stop and turn to the door.

"Strange, no one ever comes here. Hugh? Are you expecting Nick?" She grabbed a towel and began drying her hands as she walked to the door, looking out the window as she passed by it. "Post," she called back, opened the door and signed for the overstuffed envelope.

"Strange," she said, ripping open the package as she returned to the kitchen. "Dr. Mueller sent something. Oh, I almost forgot." She sat down at the table grinning. "He was sending me a sketch of the man he saw. The one I told you was Grindelwald. Do you remember what he looked like as a young man?"

Dumping the contents of the envelope, she picked up the sketch as her eyes scanned the short note he had attached wishing her a happy holiday and hoping that the picture helped. Turning her head to the pencilled sketch, with a large grin on her face she froze, then slowly stood letting the picture fall from her hand.

Her eyes locked on Severus as he stood with her. She saw his eyes dart to the sketch and back to her as if waiting for her reaction. "You knew. You knew who it was."

"Hugh," Severus said calmly. "Go to the grocery and tell them you are there to pick up my order."

"Sure," Hugh said, coming to his feet as he watched Hermione. "Mum? Are you okay?"

"She is fine. Take the list from the counter and tell them I called it in. I want you to wait for it." He did not take his eyes off Hermione as he dug in his pocket and handed Hugh a handful of Muggle currency. Waiting until he heard the front door close, he stepped closer to Hermione.

"You son-of-a-bitch," she hissed. "You knew? This is why you wanted me to drop it? This is why."

Severus picked up the sketch of Albus Dumbledore and crumbled it before throwing it into the air and with a wave of his hand reduced it to ash. "What did you expect? Did you really think all your little ideas would come in a neatly tied package? Did you think no one would be hurt by digging into the past?"

"He…he wouldn't have…he wouldn't have helped that bastard. Mueller is a crazy old man. Just listening to him you could tell that. No. He's wrong."

"He just happened to draw a man that looks like him in error? Surely the princess of Gryffindor does not believe that."

"Everyone knows Dumbledore never helped him. He wouldn't have done that. Never. He was there to stop him and Mueller saw them."

"How do you plan on explaining your Dr Mueller's memory of the handshake? Please, go on. I am curious."

"Why are you acting like this? Because of a confused old man? His memories were altered…he mixed things up."

"Which old man? Dr. Mueller or Albus?"

"You know bloody well what I'm talking about. Dumbledore was not involved. I know it and so do you."

"Not in the deaths of your Dr. Mueller's family. With that, I agree. However, do you remember the story of the Deathly Hollows? All of it? Three gifts for three brothers. Do you really think Gellert, Albus and Tom did not all think they were each one of the three? Each thirsting for power? Each thinking they would be the last? Do you remember Albus' fool hearty attempt to feel power again, even as he expounded truth and goodness? Voldemort's army of Inferi? Grindelwald's power and his thirst for a wand to make himself invincible?"

"The ring? He put it on…he made a mistake …Harry said he freely admitted it was a mistake. And if he wanted the invisibility cloak, why give it back to Harry?"

"The cloak was safe in Potter's hands. Albus could get it whenever the need arose. The ring he put it on knowing it contained power…that was his downfall. His _regret_ was that he had never finished what he started. That he had never reached that allusive pinnacle of power that he lusted after. Oh, yes, he discovered too late, what was happening…but not soon enough that he was uncorrupted by the same lust as the other two. Not soon enough to have his name cleared entirely. "

"He…gods," she slumped to a chair and buried her face in her hands.

"Grindelwald had the wand, had it for some time. Albus knew it and was content to leave in it where it was for as long as he could. He must have thought Riddle had found the stone when he learned what he was attempting. That would give him two of the three things he needed. The third fell into his hands when the first James Potter, Harry's grandfather, came to Hogwarts. All he had to do to make sure his plan did not fail was to keep both Riddle and Grindelwald apart.

"He said…rather Harry told me about his sister. That when she died…that's when Albus saw what he was doing was wrong."

"That is when he stayed home, not when he changed his view of the world. I am sure he…refrained…until Riddle came along. Have you never found it strange that whereas he knew what Riddle was before his persona of Voldemort he never took any action? Not the kind old man you had envisioned him to be?

I have no doubt that by the time your Dr. Mueller saw him Albus was also looking for the stone. He may have already had his …change of heart…removing himself from Grindelwald's army, but he still sought the power. Albus allowed Grindelwald do as he wanted, with the agreement that he stay out of England. Do you really think one such as Grindelwald stayed away out of fear? He had an army to fight with him yet he feared one man that taught a room full of children? No, the truth is much simpler.

"Stop it! Stop it…I can't think…I … I need time to make sense of this. Do you expect me to believe that the three knew each other? Worked together? No, that's impossible. Riddle knew _of_ Grindelwald, that we know. But nothing has ever been said that they worked together."

"I see," Severus smirked. "The same way you believed that Albus lost contact with his only…love…when the object of that love left England. Think, Hermione, think about what you know and fill in the gaps.

Riddle was twenty when Gellert was imprisoned. He had killed his family when he was only seventeen. He had already started as a boy…by twenty he had three years to find and ingratiate himself to Gellert. Don't you think it strange that he would _not _have sought out the greatest wizard on the continent and in doing so found where Albus' true allegiance laid?

Can you imagine the betrayal Riddle felt? His old Professor, that scorned him for his actions, was in truth allied with the monster that was Grindelwald. Is it any wonder that Riddle returned to England to take up a position against Dumbledore rather than stepping in to fill the void Grindelwald's imprisonment left?"

"Stop. I don't want to hear this."

"No, you wanted to know the truth now hear it. Albus was not always the benign and thoughtful wizard you believed him to be. Although, yes, he changed…it was not a sudden acknowledgement of his errors. It was painfully slow and painfully harmful. Not once, not once when I was with the Dark Lord, and most assuredly not once to save Potter, did he ever initiate an attack. Think about it and tell me why."

She looked up at him, seeing his emotional mask replaced by one of controlled fury. "I won't accept that Albus was part of the horror. I can't."

"Hermione, Gellert Grindelwald was his lover. He would do anything for him. Is that so difficult to believe? Is it so hard to believe that he protected him as much as he could? That his obsession knew no bounds? That as long as he thought there was still a way to gain power, to gain information that he was content to let it go on?"

"That's why he let you come back to Hogwarts?" she said, cutting him off. "He had done the same thing? Albus knew...he knew what Riddle was when Riddle was a child. I can understand Grindelwald . From what I know it started slowly, young men thinking they were smarter than every one else…but not Riddle. Albus knew what he was."

"Yes, he knew, and in the knowing found the third brother of Deathly Hollows. When you started this, your idea was to find what made Riddle the way he was. When did it start? How did it start? Do you still trust Albus' pensive was not changed the same way Slughorn's memory was changed? Perhaps it was changed just enough to show Albus' first meeting with Tom to be one of horror, and not one of anticipation. It must have irked him that Tom was so young. Too have to wait so long."

"I asked you a question!" she shouted, leaning her hands on the table and glaring at him. "Why did he let you come back? You already had taken the mark. Why? What did he know? Why did he let you back? If you knew the truth…wasn't he worried that you would use it against him?"

"Because he had no choice," Severus thundered back at her, his voice shaking with rage. "I knew what he was. Voldemort made sure I knew!"

"You…you…blackmailed him," she said, slumping into the closest chair. "So...it wasn't because you …" she stopped and looked up at him, her eyes welling with tears, "tell me I'm wrong. Tell me it's because you were wrong about Voldemort…that you knew what he was."

"Yes. If your question is, did I truly repent …yes. On Dumbledore's part, It was an act of … let's call it a tempered kindness. He agreed to protect me at Hogwarts and I in turn agreed…gave my oath to that bastard… my fidelity and a promise to hold the secrets I had learned about our beloved Headmaster. Didn't you find it strange that your kind and fatherly figure demanded such an oath from a repentant twenty two year old?"

"The oath died with him. I keep hearing that. But it's not true…he must have…" She stopped and looked at him, tears slipping from her eyes. "He must have threatened to use something against you."

"The oath died, yes. He was the one that spoke to the Ministry and assured them that my part was that of a youth's folly. Something he could have, and would have, recanted." He sat across from her and placed his hand over hers. "Listen to me. You were not…here…right after the war. I trust you heard about the trials, the rumours, the suspicions that the Order was a ruse…a way of Voldemort gaining entry to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, and they discovered the truth. They proved you innocent, Severus…no one can put you on trial again."

"Yes they can, and they can drag the rest of the order in with me. Minerva, Kingsley, even your precious Potter. Even you, Hermione. I will not let that happen."

"Me? Potter? Because we were in the Order?"

"Yes. You were associating with a known Death Eater, as were the others in the Order. Guilt by association as it is. If the truth of Albus' part is found to have continued as long as it did, if it is shown that Albus knowingly left Riddle alone, it will open up old wounds and again put the Order in the forefront.

Hermione, he spent the last years of his life atoning for his mistakes. That is what you believed and in part, it is true. However, the times were with him. In times of war, this world needed someone they could pin their hopes on and Albus did that. For that he should be remembered."

"How many know?"

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. "I would imagine Minerva. However, we have never discussed it, nor shall I. She is aware of his infatuation with Grindelwald and would have seen a classmate of hers ...favoured by the then Professor Dumbledore. Perhaps Kingsley knows more than I think he does…it is possible. As for the rest…if they ever…as did you…decide to look into it or to examine their memories they may come to the same conclusion."

"Why are you protecting him? If he repented and helped end the horror…what does it matter?"

"It would matter if the full extent of his involvement was known. He was not a youth any longer. I imagine his relationship with Grindelwald made it more difficult to see. It was not secret that the two had a history. I have always thought there was a bit of…jealousy…involved. Riddle was young, handsome, more…attractive to Grindelwald."

"And...you found this out, how?"

"Riddle, by that time known as Voldemort. I was recruited. Lucius introduced me and after meeting with him, I was impressed. Impressed, I must say, more in his dislike of Albus than for what he stood for. I preferred Hogwarts over Spinner's End and the company of the Malfoy's to that of Albus. You have to under…no. You do not have to understand." He stood and smoothed his trousers.

"Yes I do. I can't make sense of it."

"Then I will take my leave."

"Severus, no." She rose and went to him. "Stay. Please. I don't want you to leave, not now and not like this. I need to understand. I need to know."

"Once you accept all is not as you thought, you may well change your mind about us. I am afraid, my dear, I do not choose to wait for that." He hooked his fingers under her chin and studied her face. "I do wish our time together had been longer. My only regret in the future, when I look back on this, is that you took too long to come to me."

"Don't do this. We can talk. Severus, I promised myself I wouldn't ask you for anything," she said as she crossed the space that remained between them and took his hands. "But this time I am. Stay."

"Do you need me to tell you what I did? If you find Albus' defection so heinous, what of mine?" He rested his hand where her left breast had been. "Shall I recite the list of spells I created for the Dark Lord that not only changed you life but caused you to stumble and kill the one you truly loved?"

"But I love you. You were a young and impressionable schoolboy. And don't tell me you created it for the monster…you did it …"

"While still a student at Hogwarts, as I was when I took the mark. You see, my dear, the Dark Lord did not wait for a boy to come of age. He took them as young a fifteen. If he were still here…you would have to start worrying about your own son in two years."

"You'll be back? Severus, please, we can't leave it like this. If you don't want me anymore…I understand that. I expected it," she laughed as she ran her hand through her hair. "Fuck, I expected you to be gone when I woke up this morning. I expected you to be like all the others. I…"

"Stop it!" He glowered, fighting his urge to grab and shake her.

"You'll have to eat," she said flatly, then stepped back and opened the door. "I'm sorry, I won't beg and I don't want you here if I have to. Go."

"Don't yell at her!" Hugh shouted, dropping the sack of groceries and pushing Severus to the side, standing in front of Hermione. "Get out if you're going to yell at her. We don't need you here."

"Hugh, no," Hermione pleaded. "It's not what…"

"Leave him," Snape scowled, then turned on his heel and yanked the door open. "He is right."

"Severus, no," she pushed Hugh to the side and started to the door, surprised and embarrassed when her son grabbed her arm.

"Leave him go," Hugh spat.

"Hugh, it's not what you think."She pried his hand off her arm and ran outside seeing Severus leave before she could reach him. Turning back to the house, she saw Hugh in the doorway watching her.

"What did he mean that he took the mark? It's true? What they say about him?"

"He was young, just a little older than you," she said, putting her arm around his shoulder and leading him back indoors. "I am sure you have heard all about it."

"Yeah…but…he never seemed…you know…like he would do it. He can be mean and most of the guys don't like him much…well, mostly the ones that don't do their work, but I don't think he could really do all the stuff they said Death Eaters did."

"Let's not do this now," Hermione said, glancing at the door. "We'll give him some time to cool down before we…before…should I send an owl?"

"Did he dump you?"

"No, Hugh, what a thing to say."

"Then I'll send him…"

"You'll stay out of it. This is between me and him." She hugged him to her and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry about it. We are going to have a good Christmas. I know, let's start a day early. Why don't you look in the shed? There's a box with your name on it," she grinned thinly. "I know you're bored around here with nothing to do. Go on…see what it is."

He slammed out of the back door and opened the shed, looking back and giving her a wide smile before disappearing inside. Rushing back with large box, he put it on the table and started ripping it open.

"A telle! Wow, Mum, a telle!"

"It's only a small one and I expect you to keep the noise down," she said, frowning as she felt the sting of tears and nodded, telling him to move the end table and set it up the best he could in the sitting area. "It doesn't seem possible this is our second Christmas here," she mused.

"You never came home for the hols." Hugh sat back on his heels from where he was in the sitting room. "Mum would get funny and Dad…"

"Don't," she choked, "I know. There were things that…it was a long time ago kid-o"

"I bought Snape something."

"You did? Please tell me it's plant food or a feather duster." She tried to grin, watching his face redden.

"Nah, it's only a journal, but I had his initials put on it."

"He'll like that."

Later she made soup and sandwiches as her mother would have and joined Hugh on the floor to watch the same movies she remembered seeing as a child.

"I've been thinking he should stay away. I don't like him yelling at you. ''

"No…we were discussing ….my work."

Hugh looked at her solemnly. "Did he dump you? Is that why you were crying?"

"What?"

"Did he? Did he hurt you?"

"No," she felt her stomach fall as she furiously thought of what to say.

"They all do."

"He won't."

"You sure? Brown's real pretty and everyone says…"

"Yup, I'm sure." She said it as a lie, but in saying it aloud began to smile.

She lay down next to Hugh on her stomach, her elbows on the floor propping up her head, watching with him until they were both yawning. As she readied for bed and lifted her pillow and blankets to the sofa when she found Severus' shirt tucked into the folds of the quilt where he had put it. She slid it under her pillow and closed her eyes, for the first time not doubting that he would be back and not caring how long it took.

Not once during the night had he uttered a term of endearment, or returned her words of love. Not once had he made her promises or pretended that what they had was more than this time together. Hermione hugged her pillow and nestled further down under the blankets, imaging lying with him to her back. Imaged his touch as he had pushed the hair from her face and saw again the concern in his eyes as he had sought her face in the darkness to check on her reactions. For the first time she felt loved, loved unconditionally, and didn't care if was an illusion or not, or how long it lasted.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 18**

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Christmas morning Hermione woke to the sound of china and metal clanking in the kitchen and the smell of toast and eggs. Taking a deep breath, she smiled and rolled to her back. It was good to have Hugh home and not wake to silence, and in a moment of pure indulgence, she closed her eyes and listened, considering going back to sleep. Within moments, her eyes snapped open upon hearing a familiar male voice bantering with her son.

"So what did you do then?" Hugh's voice floated out to the sitting room.

"It was fortunate that it happened prior to the Ministry's reordering the lessons. The structure at that time was set up so all third years knew simple shielding spells. However, I still carry a scar from the burn. Professor Longbottom has a similar one on the back of his left hand."

"Yeah, I saw it. So…these will help?"

"Only if used properly. When chopping dried ingredients correctly, aided with the correct blade, your product will not repel the liquid portion, which results in most of the explosions in any lab. You must still exercise caution and learn to use them precisely. Your mother has also helped greatly with her method of cooling potions. I believe you learned hot water submersion of the copper cauldrons last week?"

"Yeah, her name was right in the new text book and everything. Do you think I will make it into advanced potions? I buggered up the last exam."

"Your Professor will make that decision, that and your N.E.W.T.s. However, it is up to your mother as to what language you use at home. I, for one, do not find the term _bugger up_ as adequate when describing a failing grade," Severus' voice gently chided, although Hermione knew he had raised his eyebrow and gave Hugh his _mind your manners_ look.

"How do I hold this one? It has two blades real close together."

"Now is not the time. Close the lid and wake up your mother. Tell her it is breakfast time and if _I am cooking_ she is eating."

"Don't bother, I'm here," Hermione said walking into the room and caught Hugh up in a hug as he threw himself at her. Meeting Severus's eyes over Hugh's shoulder, she smiled warmly.

"Can we eat after we open the rest of the gifts?"

"The rest?"

"Yeah, look what I got." Hugh dragged her to the table and lifted the lid of a black ebony box, which contained a set of professional chopping blades. "They're real. Not the practice knives we got in Diagon. He said I can't use them at Hogwarts but I can at home."

"Severus," she looked up and saw him turn back to the cupboards to take down the plates. "This must have cost a small…"

"Sit." He turned and handed Hugh the plates. "For one day you will shut up about the price of potatoes. And you, Mr. Ganger, will sit and eat prior to any frivolity."

Hermione raised her eyebrow as Hugh hurried to set the table. Taking the seat at the back, she watched them complete plating the food and set it on the table. Not only was she surprised that Hugh had not protested about having to wait to attack what was under the tree, but that he ate slowly, not cramming his cheeks full only to rush off.

"I got a new a telle. Sis let me open it when you left."

"I see," Severus said, looking up from under his brows. "I do hope you use it wisely and not waste what little time you have at home on such things."

"Was there a problem?" Hermione asked, keeping her eyes on her plate. "At Hogwarts? I thought you might return last night." Aware that his hesitation to give her a quick answer signalled that he was still brooding about how they had left things.

"It was best that I left when I did, nothing more."

"I see." She laid her fork down and fought to fill the silence that suddenly descended on the kitchen. "Is anyone still at Hogwarts? Other than the elves?"

"No," he answered. "I was quite alone."

"And you preferred that over…"

"Are you two going to go at it again?" Hugh glared at Severus.

"Hugh!"

"I don't care…last time he had you crying," he said, lifting his chin, although a slight tremble in his lower lip gave away his false bravado.

Severus held up his hand to silence Hermione as he locked his eyes on Hugh. "Again. This time do not take that attitude. If you hope to be taken seriously do not act like a petulant child and if you have a problem with me say it to my face not to your mother."

Hugh swallowed hard and stood next to his chair. "I would prefer it, _sir,_ if you do not speak to my _mother_ that way. The last time you did you made her cry." He stopped and cut his eyes to Hermione. "Well he did."

"Hugh, you don't understand," she stared to explain when again Snape held up his hand, palm out, silencing her.

Severus leaned back in his chair, the pulse under his chin beating strongly, as he turned slowly to face Hermione, taking his attention off Hugh. "It seems your son is correct. We should not argue about trivial things. Do you agree, Miss Granger?"

"I…yes," she stammered, seeing the laughter in his eyes and didn't know how far he was going with this. "I …imagine so, Headmaster."

"For example, the other evening after our shopping trip, was there not a certain…_private _communication that was almost cut short due to a…difference of perceptions?"

"Ummm…perceptions?" She looked between Severus and Hugh, not understanding what he wanted.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you argued that I would see something one way, I disagreed, and then proved my point much to your…satisfaction."

Hermione's face reddened instantly, knowing he was referring to his assertion that he didn't care about her disfigurement and her insistence that he did. "We agreed, in the end, did we not, to _keep_ …certain ….developments _private_? As well as _certain_, shall I say _Ministry interventions?_"

"I remember no such agreement," he said, looking surprised. "Was that before or after our… _communication_?"

"During," she hissed. "You know damned well what…" She stopped and flung herself back in her chair.

"Mr. Granger, whereas I understand your concern for your mother and find it commendable, I do want you to remember this conversation as proof that at times, your mother, takes offense to the least little thing. However, I do find your protection of her commendable and agree that _our_ behaviour was inappropriate. "

"I do not take offense at the least little thing," Hermione said incredulously. "How can you say that? You twist things to your linking only to..."

"Yeah, you do," Hugh chimed in, and quickly tried to recover. "I mean sometimes…not all the time. You know…just…not all the time just…once or twice…."

"Now would be a good time to open your presents. Go." Hermione said, standing up with him, waiting until he ran out of the room before grabbing Severus by the arm. "What was that all about?"

"He is jealous that he does not have you to himself. That and he is playing the part of the man of the house. Both are normal reactions for a boy his age. He knows something has changed, he just doesn't know what."

"That's foolish. He likes you. God only knows why. And I wasn't asking about him. What the bloody hell are _you _up to?"

"I accepted your invitation," he said, glancing at the door before quickly holding her chin and giving her a light kiss.

"I was worried," she said, leaning on his chest and looking up to study his face. "When you left yesterday, I was worried that you misunderstood me."

"I returned. Did I not?"

"I never doubted that you would," she said smiling widely. "My only worry was that it would take you longer. I want you to promise that we will never put our work or other issues between us. That we can argue and still…"

He kissed her quickly and pulling back nodded to the doorway. "Fine. I promise never to take you seriously. Now, your son is waiting for you."

"Us, he is waiting for us, and you had better take me seriously."

"Hermione," he sighed.

"What do I tell him? About us I mean. If he suspects something perhaps I should talk to him."

"The truth would be novel." He turned and walked into the sitting room to join Hugh.

Hugh thrust his package into Snape's hands with a shrug and a comment that it was really nothing. Frowning, Severus opened the gift and looked up to Hugh who sat looking at him expectantly. "It is a fine journal. Good leather binding," he said, glancing at Hermione before setting it on the end table.

Seeing his discomfort in accepting a gift, Hermione waved Hugh to the tree, telling him which one to open first. Crossing the room, she sat next to Severus, as she instructed Hugh which gift was from her to the Headmaster. "Happy Christmas," she said handing it to Snape, and turned back to watch Hugh rip the paper off the chess set, taking her attention off Severus who sat stiffly. "Do you like it?"

"You got this in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes, I spent the day there. Shopping."

His eyes went quickly to Severus and back to her. "You could have taken me out for lunch. We get a whole hour."

"I know you do. I…I didn't think about it tell you the truth. I didn't even know I was going until I got up that day. Now, open the red one. See if it fits."

"Severus?" She turned back to him as Hugh left the room to try on his new trousers and shirt. "Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all." He put the inkpot and quill on the table along with the journal. "You should not be spending your…"

"You said we wouldn't talk about the price of potatoes," she said with a laugh and moved back from her perch on the edge of the cushion. "Can't you just accept the fact that we wanted to give you something? You have given us so much…this house to live in for one. We owe you a lot more than a couple of trinkets at Christmastime."

"You owe me nothing. I thought I had made that clear. If that is what this is about…"

"Now stop." She grinned, leaning back against the cushions and glanced up the steps. "You may not understand this, but for Hugh to give you a gift means that he likes you, more than just his Headmaster." She leaned against his arm and held his hand in both of hers. "I missed you last night."

Shrugging her off, he reached into his inside pocket and brought out a small package and handed it to her, then leaned back against the cushion, draping one leg over the other. Just as she began to remove the silver paper, Hugh came trudging down the stairs giving her a halfhearted smile.

"When did you get so tall?" she quipped, looking at his ankles showing from under the trouser legs. "Take them off. I'll exchange them before you go back. Actually, you had better come with me. You look like an idiot in those. The jumper too…it looks like something a clown would wear."

"Thanks," he said, grinning. "I was worried I'd have to wear them."

"I guess I have no idea how to shop for boy's clothing." She laughed, watching Severus from the corner of her eye as she began to open the package. Finding a black jeweller's box, she flipped it open. Inside lay a pair of hair combs made of elfin spun gold and set with sparkling emeralds. "Oh…Severus…they're…they're beautiful." She snapped her head up to see him watching not her but Hugh.

"You said jewellery…"Hugh paused and looked from Severus to Hermione and back to Severus, his own face showing confusion and something Hermione could not place.

"Do you have a question?" Severus asked.

"No, I guess not." Huge frowned and levelled Snape with a glare of his own.

Severus leaned forward and removed one of the hair combs from the box, grabbed a lock of hair from Hermione's temple and twisted it up to the side of her crown where he fastened the comb. Leaning back, he smirked at her. "They carry a spell that is now fixed."

"This better be good."

"In case of an emergency I will be alerted. You are alone much of the time. I thought this would lend you some measure of safety. Hugh, if you put the remaining comb in her hair, it will also alert you. The signal will be silent, an intense warming of your left wrist. However, since you can not apparate for few years, it will be of little use."

"That's all? Because if they carry any of those barbaric fidelity…" Her hand went to her hair as she started to remove the comb.

"Just that." He smirked, seeing the look that flickered across Hugh's face at Hermione's slip of the tongue. "If for some reason you cannot talk, which now that I consider it may be something I would like to see, they will alert me. In other cases, you can rest assured that even if you are run over by the Knight Bus you must give the password."

"And?"

"Kumquat, and before you ask, no I do not. The original owner set the password over two hundred years ago. I have no idea why, other than it is not likely to come up in conversation."

"You sure that's all it is?" Hugh asked, leaning over to look at the combs. "So…it's not like Muggle jewellery at all. Right? It…it doesn't mean anything…not like…you know the necklace I got for Natalie? What you said her dad my think?"

"They are exquisite," Hermione mused as she ran the tip of her finger over the fine gold work. "I have never owed something so beautiful. Severus…the must have come very dear. How can I ever thank you?"

Snape leaned back in his seat again, not taking his eyes off Hugh. "It is exactly like Muggle jewellery. Have you found your question?"

"Sis?"

"What is it, Hugh?" Hermione tore her eyes from the combs and looked up at him, finding his and Snape's eyes still locked on each other.

"He wants to know if we are…seeing each other. I do believe that is still the term second- years use."

"The Headmaster and I are not…"

"I know _that's a lie._ I thought he was getting ready to dump you. Yesterday you were having a row and now he's giving you those. So…he's not dumping you or what?" Hugh stammered.

"No and what do you mean you know? Know what?" Hermione didn't know if Severus' bark of laughter was from the look on her face or Hugh's assessment of their relationship.

Hugh shrugged as his face turned red. "The guys said when you threw a fit in the Broomsticks you two looked …you know…then you were wearing his shirt."

"That's it!" She stood and laid her hair combs on the table with Severus' inkpot and quill, "I don't want to hear what the guys say and I don't think now is the time to talk about this."

"They were right," Hugh muttered, glancing at Severus when he heard the Headmaster continue to snigger. "Well, they were."

"Enough," Snape said firmly, coaching his face back to its normal scowl.

"What'd I say? Just because she lied to me…"

"I did not…" she turned to Severus for help, clamping her mouth shut.

"She was trying to protect you, it is a thing witches do. You will learn as you grow older that they demand your complete honesty but temper what they say to what they think you want, or are ready, to hear. You will also learn to express your…feelings…or incur their wrath."

"Protect me from what?" Hugh asked, looking between the two.

"Severus, that's enough," Hermione said, gathering up the discarded wrapping paper and fisting it into a crumbled mess.

"Hugh," Severus said quietly. "There is an envelope on my nightstand. The one with a Ministry seal. I want you to get it for me."

"I should talk to him first," Hermione said watching Hugh go up the stairs. "He may have questions."

"Leave him be. If he has questions he will bring them to you."

"I don't know that he will. He still isn't always comfortable with me."

"With asking his mother if she is having an affair? No. With asking his sister if she is involved with someone? Yes."

"I still don't think this is a good idea. I haven't even had time to think about it and I know he's not ready."

"He is more than ready. It is his mother that cannot accept the fact."

"Not us, about the certificate. He doesn't need to know about it until I make up my mind."

"By which time he will be married with children of his own. It should be his decision as well, one he needs to make before returning to Hogwarts." He leaned back in his seat and scowled at her. "I would prefer that you put the kettle on and busy your self in the kitchen."

"You…you think I am leaving you alone with him? Oh, no…I don't think so."

"I am sure your ear will be pressed to the door. However, he needs to be able to talk freely and with you…"

"This one?" Hugh held the envelope up as he came down the stairs. "There's another one but it has a Hogwarts seal."

"Your mother was about to put on the kettle, so I will explain what this is while she is busy." Severus held out his hand and smirked as Hermione stomped out of the room. "She is upset that I will not allow her to join us."

"Why?"

"Sit," Severus waved to the chair opposite him. "You are well aware of the bigotry that our world holds for the children of unmarried witches. Are you not?"

"Yeah." he muttered, looking at the carpet.

"Eyes up when I am talking to you. That is unless you find something shameful in this discussion, in which case I am sorely disappointed in you."

Hugh lifted his head and stared at the Headmaster. "They call me names…they call me Mudblood and say I'm a bastard."

"And so you are." Severus waited until Hugh threw himself back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "The term bastard is an old one, and one that has unfortunately survived to this day adapting to a new meaning. It is used now as a moral judgement where once it was only as an indication of marital status and referred to in legal documents of inheritance rights. However, it does rather inelegantly state your position in our world. Without a father's name, you will not be accepted into society. Whereas that should not be an issue, it will be a determining factor if you ever decide to go into business in our world."

"I want to be a curse breaker," Hugh admitted, toeing the carpet.

"A dangerous profession, but not one without appeal," Severus said solemnly. "The older the family, the more…trinkets…they have collected, the more property they have acquired and the more need for someone with those skills. A perfect example of what you will face and a valid reason to make sure you are not known as a bastard, as your revenue will be generated by those of old families who hold the most prejudices."

They sat in silence for a few moments, both turning to look at the kitchen door when the sound of a kettle banging in the sink became loud enough to draw their attention. Severus chuckled and raised his eyebrow. "Your mother thinks I am being vulgar and unjustly cruel to her."

"About what?"

"About not allowing her to be here when you learn what we are discussing."

"Yeah, well…should I try my silencing spell?"

"That would be rather foolish. She was the only student I knew that could break my wards in her second year and I imagine she has already set her own anti-silencing wards against my attempts."

"She can do that?"

"She can. I do, however, plan to discover her spell. Now, as I was saying, without a father's name on your birth certificate, your options in this world will be those of an uneducated interloper. I have therefore, come up with a simple solution. A few days ago, I approached an old friend of your mother's and I. You would know him as Minister Shacklebolts." Severus waited until Hugh nodded then continued as he removed the certificate from the envelope.

"You do not know your father's name, neither do I. I am certain that your mother will never tell you, nor is there any indication that you will learn of it in the future. You need to accept that." First, scanning the certificate, he then handed it to Hugh. "Your mother, I see, has not signed this, although you will see my signature. Once she does it will magically file itself with the Ministry and all records associated with it will change to match the information."

"What…what does this…you're not…I…"

"No, I am not. You need to know that this is only…an offer…not the truth. It will become the…_legal _proof that you need to survive in this world. You are already aware that any dunderhead with half a brain can spell the truth of the matter. "

"You knew her when she was a student. Who was she seeing?"

"That is her story to tell, or to keep private. All I will say it that your mother was gravely injured. When she was discovered in the Muggle world, with unhealed magical injuries and a small child, I sought the same answers that you seek now."

"Severus, stop." Hermione stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking at Hugh. "He doesn't need to…"

"Yes, he does." Severus turned from her, dismissing her concerns. "There was one I thought was your father. However, the appropriate blood test ruled him out, as well as another close friend of hers. She has steadfastly refused to name him, and that will not change. Nor should it, as he is of no consequence."

"Why," Hugh swivelled in his chair to see Hermione shake her head, her eyes full of tears.

"That is her choice and hers alone. The choice to sign this is yours and hers. Consider it carefully."

"What happens if she signs it? Does everyone know?"

"You may continue as you are, or disclose the information as you and your mother see fit. Of course, as I have said, if anyone cares to test the bloodline it will be an obvious falsehood. However, it is my experience that people want to believe the worse, and my name listed on your birth certificate will be, for most people , just that. Despite that, it will give you a name, a connection to this world and whereas the term bastard will still fit, as your mother was unmarried, you will have the advantage of having a father in name only. For those that want to believe the best, they will believe that your mother forced me to own up to my…errors."

"Does my name change?"

"In theory, yes. However, you can continue with Granger. Once you are of age any legal papers will show Hugo Snape, alias Hugo Granger if you so chose. Even if it becomes common knowledge that is a falsehood, legally it will hold, and over time, it will be known as true."

"Then why do it? If everyone will know it's wrong."

"Human memory is a strange thing. If it is ever tested, there may be a flurry of interest, however in time that too will be forgotten, or disbelieved. Your mother's name is well respected in this world. Her part in the war, as you have learned, is fast becoming more a thing of legend than based on the truth in the matter. As time goes on, eyewitnesses to some of her exploits will remember things …differently… and the fact that she signed the certificate will give it all the credibility it needs to be accepted. Are you aware that your mother has been researching for a book she wants to write?"

"Umm, yeah," Hugh sniggered, jerking his head to the pile of files, folders and charts piled on the floor in the corner.

"She is attempting to change the collective memory of our world. What was once common knowledge, has been forgotten, changed…a falsehood became …legend. That is but one example of how, over time, things are remembered differently and a false memory, planted by a person of respect, becomes the new truth."

"My friends will know."

"If they _are_ your friends it will not matter. My suggestion would be to let the rumours run their course. Do not deny, nor give them credence. Leave the children have their fun and when your birth certificate is needed, years from now, let them think it was your mother's plan and my stubbornness and hatred of the press that kept you from telling anyone. I do believe that is the story you have already put in place."

"So….you're telling me to lie?"

"No, I am telling you to say nothing. Although as you are indeed your mother's son, I know you will find that impossible."

"Did you only do this for my Mum?" Hugh swallowed hard and wiped his sleeve under his nose.

"Again, yes, in theory. However, I have no heir, no family, and find it desirable to know that what I have accumulated will be passed down instead of going to the Ministry. I am not…adverse to the idea. I do not find your company…offensive….nor did I do this to acquire your mother's favour."

"Severus?" Hermione said from the doorway, her eyes pleading with him to say something kind. "If you want to leave this, come have a cuppa."

"So it's true?" Hugh leaned forward and whispered. "That shirt was yours?"

"You mother is quite right. I would like a cup of tea," Snape stood up, smoothing his trousers, smirking at the closed kitchen door.

"That's it?"

"Unless you expect a hug and a happy- ever- after fairy tale in which case you can take it up with your mother."

"Ummm…yeah…well…no, I mean…yeah…I'll see her," Hugh said, jumping up and moving back from Snape. "I think I got it. Just let Mum sign it and keep my mouth shut."

"I see you inherited her eloquence as well."

**~o0o~**

After a dinner of roasted duck and all the trimmings, Hermione shooed the two wizards out of the kitchen to a game of chess while she sorted the kitchen and prepared a platter of the cheese and olives to snack on later. Levitating a pot of tea, cups and the pastries she had purchased on her and Severus' shopping trip, she joined them in the sitting room.

"I hope you saved room for desert," she grinned, seeing Hugh's eyes grow large. "I think I over bought."

"You think?" Hugh grinned filling a plate with tarts and cookies. "I can take them back to school if you want to get rid of them."

"So…who is winning?"

Severus looked up at her, swallowing his smile. "It seems your son can not hold on to his queen."

"Ah, I see." Hermione nodded solemnly, remembering the way the queen would sway her hips when moving from square to square. "Severus?" She indicated the deserts.

"Tea will be fine," he said, reaching to accept the cup from her. "We have been invited else where for afters."

"We?"

Severus glanced at the clock and instructed Hugh to put the game away. "Although the place we are going is quite casual you will need your outer robes as it is a walk from the Apparation point. This is one time jeans will be appropriate. That is of course if your mother consents."

"Sure." Hugh started to put the game away, frowning at Hermione.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Where am I taking both of you?" He calmly set down his teacup and studied her. "The Burrow."

Hermione watched Severus closely as Hugh left to change his clothes. "Why are you waiting until now to say something?"

"Two reasons. First, you were in no mood yesterday to bring this up, and secondly, I did not want to give you time to worry about it, or to talk yourself out of it. The choice of course is yours."

Hermione crossed the room and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. "How much do they know?"

"About Hugh, everything. About _their _son, only that he was with you when he died and they seem to think he passed coming to your rescue. I do believe Potter spun a partial truth. According to Arthur, Molly is feeling nostalgic and wants to see you. He thinks the holidays, and their children leaving home, is causing her some discomfort. At least he made no mention that anything else was disclosed to them."

She turned her head and tipped her chin up to look at him. "I'm okay with it. Truly, I think…I could do this if it wasn't for the fact that everyone will be there."

"Arthur assured me that by six only he and Molly would remain. The rest of the family were spending the day at The Burrow, but the evening at their respective in-laws."

"Harry?"

"I am sure Arthur has made sure he will not be present."

Hermione sighed heavily and considered if she should or shouldn't go. "You're staying right? You don't plan on just dropping me off and leaving? Okay, so don't answer that." She tipped her head up again and found him looking down at her.

Severus took Hugh in a side-a-long, leaving Hermione to apparate on her own. She followed in a matter of seconds, giving Severus just long enough to wonder if he was foolish for thinking she would come. She grinned seeing his look of relief, and taking Severus' right arm and Hugh's left, began the walk from the gate to the Weasley home.

"Cor, how does it stay up?" Hugh grinned.

"Hush," Hermione laughed. "Mrs. Weasley is quite proud of their home. I expect you to be on your…"

"Hermione, Severus, and this must the Hugh," Arthur said, hurrying out of the house towards them. "It was good of you to come." He took Hermione by the shoulders and held her at arms length. "I do think you have grown up even prettier than I remember you." He pulled her into a warm embrace. "Thank you for coming, Hermione. It is time Molly put this behind her."

"Mr. Weasley, I should have come sooner. Thank you for inviting us."

"Mr. Weasley? You always called me Dad … has that changed too?"

"Dad." She grinned, feeling the sting of tears. "This is Hugh, my son."

"I have heard a lot about you, young man. It seems that your Headmaster is quite proud of the progress you are making at Hogwarts," Arthur beamed at the boy before reaching out and ruffling his hair. "I hope you like treacle tarts, Molly always made them for your mother. Come, come inside before she is wondering what has happened to me."

"Who is here?" Hermione wrapped her arm around Arthur's as they continued to the house.

"Just us old people. Bill and Charlie are in Egypt, Percy and George are at their in-laws, and even Harry and Ginny are out for the day." Arthur opened the door and stepped back as his visitors entered.

Hermione reached out and took Severus' hand when Molly came into the room, feeling the first trace of trepidation. "Molly, it is good to see you. Thank you for the invitation."

"This must be your son," Molly said, smiling thinly, her own eyes shining with tears. "He looks like his grandfather. The eyes I think."

"Yes, he does." Hermione gently pushed Hugh to the sofa and sat down next to him. "I must say, this place looks the same."

"Sis," Hugh whispered and pointed to the mantle where the whole Weasley family and friends were in a parade of framed pictures. "Mum had your old photo album and I remember seeing them."

Hermione nodded, unable to look away from the photographs until Molly called her name from where she stood by the door, already dressed to go outside. "Severus said you have never been to the graveyard."

"No, I haven't," she answered, then seeing Severus and Arthur walking to the kitchen knew this had been the plan all along. "It's awfully cold out Molly, perhaps it would be better to wait until it warms."

"Hugh, run along to the kitchen now. I put a pot of hot chocolate on and if you are fast you may get some of the pudding before those two eat it all." Molly shooed Hugh off over Hermione's protests, then reached her hand down, waiting for the younger witch to join her. "My dear, girl, we have wasted enough time on this foolishness. Now come with me and let's be done with it."

Hermione accepted Molly's hand and walked with her to the far end of the property where the small Weasley burial plot lay. They passed the graves of people Hermione did not know, before coming to the names of Gideon and Fabian. Pausing to read the dates on the grave marker, she moved farther down the earthen path to see where Fred rested. Feeling Molly stiffen she suggested they leave, only to receive an emphatic '_No_' and a shake of her head. Once in front of Ron's gave, Molly held onto Hermione's arm, if for support or to keep her from running Hermione was not sure.

"I used to come here every day," Molly sighed. "I thought I could never go on without them."

"I can't imagine loosing two children in one day. If I lost Hugh…" Hermione stopped talking and wiped the tears from her eyes. "You know what happened, don't you."

"Some of it, yes," Molly said softly, patting Hermione's hand. "They said you were in the hospital. That you…had a breakdown of sorts."

"Of sorts," Hermione muttered.

"I used to sit here and wonder where you were. Why you didn't come." Molly sighed deeply and raised her eyes from the grave, looking back to the house. "I couldn't understand why you stayed away. Then, when we heard about the baby I assumed you never loved him."

"Oh, Moll…Mum, I couldn't…even after I got out of the hospital…I couldn't come."

"Harry told me what really happened." Molly turned and studied Hermione's face. "Why did you feel you couldn't tell us?"

"By the time I got out of the hospital I thought it best to…no that's a lie." Hermione sighed heavily and slipped to the frozen ground, laying her hand on the dirt that covered Ron. "I used to pretend he was Ron's son. Do you know that? I used want it to be true." She looked up at Molly and then helped the older witch join her on the cold hard ground. "I didn't want a baby that wasn't his. I didn't want anyone to know he was mine…that he wasn't Ron's and mine, that I was raped. I shut out the whole thing…it was a long time before I could even admit that he _was_ mine. It got so mixed up…so convoluted it took my parents death to show me what I had. What I almost lost."

Molly wrapped her arm around Hermione's waist as she wiped away her own tears. "And the father?"

"No, I don't know…and even if I did…even if I knew who it was I would never tell him. He needs to think I have always wanted him. Always." Hermione watched Molly's face soften as she nodded.

"Harry said something else. He said that Ronald tried to save your life."

Hermione nodded, unable to talk, feeling Molly's arm tighten around her. "Yes," she whispered, seeing Molly's sad smile she knew that it was best to let the witch believe her son had died saving his love and Hermione supposed he had. He had taken the attention off her just long enough for her to survive. Turning back to the headstone, she thought this was one unspoken lie that would have to stand, not for her own piece of mind, but for Molly.

Later that night at Spinner's End, after cups of hot chocolate and game of chess, Hugh went to bed leaving Hermione and Severus alone. Hermione turned the lamps off and lit the tree before sitting next to Severus and the curling up next to him, her head on his lap.

"I thought it would be harder. I'm glad we went. I think it is right to let her think Ron was killed saving me."

"It would change nothing for her to know the details," Severus said in way of agreement.

"It's strange, but I can barely remember his face. He was only a few years older than Hugh is now."

"What are your plans with your book?" Severus asked, changing the topic.

"I don't know. I've been thinking of finishing it," she said, tipping her head up to watch him. Seeing the set of his jaw and the fact he did not turn to her she knew she had struck a sore point. "Hear me out before you decide I'm wrong."

"Go on."

"I want you to tell me every thing you know. Everything. Then, I will see if there are any documents, or a pensive stored up at the Ministry I can use. I won't quote you, nor mention where the information originated. Then…Severus, no…stay here….hear me out."

Severus pushed her off his lap and stood towering over her, his face immobile as he waited for her to finish.

"I will finish it, with or without your help. I will then lock it up in my vault and bequeath it to Hugh…or perhaps to the Hogwarts Library. After all the Order members are dead, he can publish it." She stood and laid her hands on his chest. "It has to be told. This world deserves to know the truth…and knowing the truth will know what to watch for next time."

"You will do it without my help. I will not…however, make any attempt to stop you."

"You don't approve."

"You do not need my approval."

"I know that. But I would like your understanding."

He tipped up her chin and brushed her lips with his, sighing as he straightened up, scowling at her. "You are an enigma. You rush to learn about things that terrify you then are willing to set them aside."

"I have to, so the dreams will stop."

"Some things are not so easily put aside."

"I'm not running, Severus, never again. If that means I will on occasion fly into a rage or break down and cry then fine. You told Hugh that over time, people remember what they want, turn people into legends and only see or hear what they want to. I accept that. It's true. It was true about the way you were seen and the way some people still see you. I understand that and I know there is nothing to we can do…only give it time.

But not Dumbledore, Grindelwald and Riddle. That can never happen again, and if the knowledge can help in some small way to insure it never does than it is worth it. "

"And if it destroys families in the process?"

"Then it does. We can hope that in a hundred years things have changed. You said yourself things are changing, slowly…but changing. Perhaps by the time it's published, people will have learned that anyone, no matter the family, can be dragged into things like this. There are horrid people in all families, along with the good. Why should we pretend otherwise? Why hide what happened because of a connection to a famous name, or condemn a whole family because of one person?"

"So, you think those that found themselves pulled in to the foray were…horrid? That is the term you used, is it not?"

"What would you call them?" Her brow wrinkled in concentration as she studied his face, seeing his mask slip into place, hiding his feeling from her. "Now what did I say?"

"Albus? Do you see him as…"

"He wasn't horrid…but what he did was. Gods, Severus. Why do you do this? People aren't good or evil…not really. We are all a mix of the two. It's how we live our life that makes the difference. He changed, he led a good life, he helped… that is part of what I need to show that and that Riddle was born without knowing…or feeling what the rest of us do. We don't have to remember someone wrongly to honour them, and we should never stop knowing that someone can be truly without a conscience. By knowing what really happened we can guard against it and at the same time know the truth."

"What of me? I only ask because I still carry the mar…."

"Don't you dare start! If you want to argue find something else we can fight about because I'm not having this conversation with you. Not now, not ever! If you want to think something you did when you were seventeen should dictate the rest of your life you go right ahead, but me…I'm not interested." She saw him cock his eyebrow at her and opened her mouth to rant at him, only to close it again unable to think of anything to add.

"No, please, go on. I am interested in your view of a seventeen year old's intelligence."

"Git," she muttered, knowing he was referring to her age when she had been in battle. "Okay, so we should both put it behind us. I got it."

"Good," he said evenly, pulling her to him and lowering his head to her ear. "There is a saying, never go to bed angry."

"We shouldn't, not with Hugh here," she whispered.

"He already knows." He kissed her neck as his hands slid down her arms and around to her back, pulling her into his body. "I want you."

He took her hand and led her up the stairs and to his room where he warded the doors with silencing and locking spells least Hugh decided to roam the halls.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

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**Hermione's Son**

**Chapter 19**

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Hermione woke in the middle of the night with a start as her old dreams returned. Sitting up, she turned to Severus, making sure he was sleeping before slipping out of bed and trying to open the door. Unable to break through his wards, and having left her wand in the kitchen, she padded across the room to see if his was on the nightstand. Not finding it, she began to pat his robes and trousers before frantically turning his pockets inside out in her quest.

"I do hope this is not what it looks like," Severus muttered, watching her go through his pockets.

"Where's your wand?" she whispered.

"Hermione?" he asked, rising up on his elbow to watch her frenzied search.

"I can't leave."

With a flick of his hand, he unlocked the door and fell back to the pillow, expecting Hermione to flee. She nodded as relief flooded over her at the sound of the dropping wards, stood and walked back to the far side of the bed, climbed back under the blanket and laid her head on his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Now, what was that all about?" He lifted his head enough to peer down at her.

"What?" she tipped her face to his, reaching up and tracing his mouth with her finger.

"Are you getting up or not?"

"Not." She reached up her mouth for a kiss then snuggled back to his shoulder. "I just wanted to know that I can. I dreamt that I was trapped. I couldn't get out…and…it's gone now. You know…you wake up and can't remember all of it."

With another wave of his hand, he opened the door, then uttered an incantation to ward Hugh's door before turning back to Hermione. "If it bothered you to have the door locked you should have said something."

"It's fine. What if Hugh…"

"It is still hours to daylight," he whispered as his mouth found her ear and his hand began its slow exploration for the hem of the shirt she still wore. Feeling her stiffen, he flicked a finger toward the nightstand, lighting the lamp. "Better?"

"Umm…" She grinned and stretched, arching her back and pushing her head back to the pillow. "I should have woken you earlier. You feel all warm and cosy."

Leaning on one elbow, he let his hand wander back to the outside of her shirt. He unbuttoned the top buttons as he leaned down to kiss her. Pushing the fabric to the side, he reached in and cupped her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers before brushing it with his teeth and then gently sucking. His hand again sought the hem, again slipped under the shirt, stroking the inside of her thighs, his thumb brushing against her.

She held his head, burying her hands in his hair, until he released her breast. Pulling him up, she sought his mouth hungrily, feeling a passion and yearning she had not previously felt. She lost herself to the sensations, the tender caresses, the lingering touches, until she took him in, wrapping her legs around his thighs and digging her heels into his flesh. She felt a tightening, a building she had never felt before. Placing her hand on his chest as he stiffened and stilled, she felt his heart beating as strongly as she heard her own hammering in her ears, then she was awash as wave after wave of release and pleasure crashed over her. "It's too much," she gasped straining up to him as he gathered her in his arms, "too much."

Severus rolled to the side, pulling her with him, enveloping her in his arms as she fought to catch her breath. "My gods," he muttered, sucking in a great lungful of air. "I should have unlocked the door a long time ago."

"I didn't think it could feel like that."

"I told you, It gets better," he grinned, rubbing her back as she curled on her side to face him.

She snuggled against him, panting in exertion, as tears filled her eyes. "I'll miss you when you're gone."

"As headmaster I have more free time. I plan to come more often."

"Not that," she whispered, tipping up her face to see him. "When you leave me."

"When I…" he stopped mid-sentence, knowing that she was thinking not of the coming months but of the coming years. "I told you we would see where this was going."

"And now?"

"Sleep," he said, tapping her nose with one long finger. "It is almost morning."

**~o0o~**

When it was time for Severus and Hugh to return to Hogwarts, Hermione stood in the kitchen bidding them goodbye. This time it was different for her. This time she felt a loss and loneliness she hadn't thought possible. Snape sent Hugh out to the yard to wait for him as he pulled Hermione to him and kissed her lightly.

"As I said, I will come whenever I do not have weekend duties."

"We can meet for lunch when I'm in Hogsmeade." She grinned, seeing his frown. "I promise. No more public rows. I know as Headmaster, you need to be careful of your reputation but I don't want to wait until the end of term to see you again."

"Nor do I," he said, putting two fingers under her chin to hold her face up to his. "You will wear the combs if you go out. I worry about you by yourself."

"I'll be nervous wearing something so expensive to the green grocer." She grinned and stepped back, picking up a box of pastries and handing them to him. "Hugh forgot these."

"And you conveniently forgot to sign this." He pulled the birth certificate from his breast pocket and handed to her. "It is time to decide."

"I didn't forget I'm still…Severus…are you sure? Truly sure? If you are just doing this for me…just because…" She flopped down at the table and smoothed the parchment flat, accepting the quill Snape produced, trying to ignore the darkness that had fallen over him. "Sorry. I know it's not that. I shouldn't have said that. But, Severus, this is forever."

"If it were not, it would not be necessary. It is his future you should be concerned about, not the present."

"Hugh thinks there is more to this than simply giving him a place in this world. You do understand that I hope." She dipped the quill in the inkpot and poised it over the parchment, hesitating.

"I am not unaware of his…attachment to me." Severus stood with his arms folded over his chest, nodding to the certificate. "He has no one but you in either world. What would you have him do if anything happens to you?"

She studied his face before signing the paper and watched the yellow glow that engulfed the parchment in shimmering light before it disappeared, magically filing itself in the Ministry. "You said you don't want attachments. I don't take this lightly, Severus. If you ever…ever go back on your word to him…"

"Have I ever given you reason to think I will?"

"No, but…I've never trusted anyone before, not with something like this, not like I trust you. It's hard, harder than you know to give him up." She looked up at him tearfully. "I feel like I've just lost him. Silly, I know…but I …I hope this is the right thing."

"You are not giving him up, Hermione. What makes you…"

"I know." She stood and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "Just know that I'll hex your nads off if you hurt him."

He lifted an eyebrow and looked at her quizzically. "Where would that leave you?"

"I'm not joking. Not about Hugh, not ever."

**~o0o~**

Once again, she made the trip to visit Dr. Mueller. Not finding him in the gallery, she proceeded to his office only to see a note stuck on his door informing the students that he would be gone for several days and to seek out Professor Hammond with any questions or problems that may arise. After asking for directions from one of the students, she made her way up to the top floor to find his replacement.

"May I ask if you are related?" Professor Hammond responded to her inquiry of Dr. Mueller's whereabouts.

"Umm, no," she stammered, knowing something was amiss. "We are collaborating on a…a history book."

"Ah, so you must be his Hermione," Mark Hammond grinned. "He speaks of you…or rather of sharing his old works with you, something he is reluctant to do with most of us. He must trust you."

"He has been quite useful. I'm working on a study of post war crimes and the fact that many went unreported. It may seem rather a trivial matter after all these years, but it plays into what happens after every conflict, including what is happening in the mid-east today. Is it possible that I see him?"

"I am afraid that his visits are very limited. Only family and…I _am _sorry. You are not aware of his medical condition. I thought that was why you were here today."

"No," Hermione said quietly, feeling awash with worry and concern. "I had no idea."

"Cancer. He has been in remission for a few years. Now it's back," Mark shook his head and indicated a chair for Hermione to sit in. He gave her a brief history of Dr. Mueller's treatments, repeated visits to the clinic and the fact that this time the doctors had found it spread to his internal organs, offering little or no hope of another recovery. "It's only a matter of time now. He refuses visitors, as far as I know the only person whom he has allowed in to see him, other than me, is his housekeeper. "

"I am sorry. Would you send a note for me? Just to let him know I came and that I am still working of what we spoke of?"

"I don't think…"

"No, please, just a word. Just…he was badly treated after the war, I want him to know that it has not…_will not_ be forgotten. Just that. I think it will give him some measure of comfort."

"Dr. Mueller has left me his final instructions," Mark said, walking to the bookshelves in his office. "He has left three of the journals to you. However, you will understand that I am hesitant to give them to you as of yet." He picked one up and flipped it open, pulling out an envelope, which he handed to her. "He wrote this but said to give you the books after he was gone."

"I understand." Hermione stood and held out her hand for the letter. "Please, convey my sympathy to his family…or his housekeeper. You have my address?"

"Yes, if he improves I will…" He shrugged and returned the book to the shelf. "There is no real family. A couple of his old buddies from the University, only the housekeeper, Emma, that seems to be more than just that, and me…we have become rather…close."

"I am sorry," Hermione said softly, seeing the set of Mark's shoulders as he turned away from her. "I'll see myself out. But…if there is any change…will you contact me?"

Hermione returned home and sent a missive to Severus, explaining that Dr. Mueller was ill and asking for any help he could offer. She was aware that certain types of cancer were curable, or at least held at bay, with magical potions, and was not surprised when Severus's return letter said he would have to have more information. Pacing in her small sitting room, she thought of Healer Clough, and wondered if he would be willing to help get Mueller's hospital records. The next morning, she headed for St. Mungo's where she found him in his lab, inspecting his staff's work.

"Healer?" she said, peaking into the white porcelain and stainless steel room. "May I have a few moments of your time?"

"My, my," he said, smiling at once. "So you heard about the opening?"

"The opening? No, I…what kind of opening?"

"I need a qualified assistant to head up the research here," he said, waving his hand to indicate the lab. "I can't be here full time while I am seeing patients and I will not transfer their cases at this time. You know yourself starting over with a new therapist could put them back years. In the mean while, it's impossible to run this efficiently."

"You think I'm ready? Last time you were…"

"Quite ready, quite. I need someone that knows proper protocol, can compile reports and stay on top of things. I've had to throw out several samples due to contamination already which put me back months and …enough of that. Turn in your application again and we'll set up an appointment. Now…what brought you here?"

"I have a friend, an acquaintance, in a Muggle hospital." She paused, chewing her lip and wondering how to approach this. "He has cancer. I can get a potion to him…I think…but I need to know about his medical history. I was hoping you would…"

"He is a Muggle?"

"Yes, but he…"

"You know better. Interfering with the Muggle world is against the Security Act. Hermione, I am surprised that you of all people would want to risk that."

"He's dying. He's…he had his family destroyed by Voldemort. We owe him. Even if we can't cure him we owe him a pain free end."

"Who is he to you?" Clough asked, indicating that she take the stool next to him. "Family?"

"No…I won't lie to you …but I could. I could say that he's related to my mother's side of since I was Muggle born. His name is Mueller…I have his information written down." She dug in her pocketbook and shoved a piece of paper in his hand. "That's his whole name and the hospital he's in. We need to get his old records, diagnoses, what treatments he's had …his whole medical record if possible. I don't have any credentials here or I would do it myself. "

"And I do?"

"Well…not in the Muggle world but I am sure you have Muggle contacts in the medical profession." She locked her eyes on his and held his attention, her mind screaming at him, silently begging him to help. "If I were in the States I could use my own medical title so don't tell me it can't be done."

"You can't save the world one at a time, Hermione. You have to let go."

"It's not that…truly," she said, laying her hand over his. "I know the difference between what I should let go of and what I shouldn't. It took me a long time, I know that, but this is right. I know it is. He's a good man…a very good man. He has suffered enough in this world."

"I'll make inquires and send the information on to you brewer," Healer Clough said evenly. "I take it you are still in touch with Snape?"

"Yes," she murmured. "He hasn't said he'll do it…or if there is a potion…without knowing more he can't be sure."

"If he can't help I doubt anyone else will be able to. Give me a couple of weeks. If I learn anything before then I will contact you. They can send over his records on the…what ever that thing they use is…you know…that compute thingy. Intake down on first has one set up across the street they use. Won't work here…the electricity … well, we can try."

"Internet," she laughed, standing up. "He may not have a couple of weeks. Please? Hurry?"

_**~o0o~**_

When the package of medical charts finally came from Healer Clough, Hermione was at once relieved to have received it and afraid of what it might contain. After sending Raven off with a hastily written note to Severus, she tried to read the records only to find she was unable to concentrate. Knowing from her medical training that the case may be hopeless, she didn't want to accept it. Needing to share what she had with Severus, and not able to contain her impatience, she hurried to change clothes and apparate to the castle.

It had been years since she had been back to Hogwarts and now that she was, the castle looked smaller than she remembered the halls darker and the air staler and danker. Pulling her jumper tight, she waited just inside the doors, her eyes trained on the stairs at the end of the hallway where she knew Severus would come from if he had been paying attention to the gate's wards that had sounded when she had entered.

"Miss Granger," Minerva called her attention back to the present as she walked up behind her. "I am indeed glad to see you back."

"Profess…Headmist…it's good to see you. I need to see the new Headmaster."

"No titles anylonger, please," Minerva said, lifting her head and giving her a thin smile. "I have had quite enough of that and it must be confusing to one such as you that has not been back for so long." She gave Hermione a brief hug then stepped back, smoothing her robes. "I flooed him as soon as you arrived at the gates. There has been a minor accident in the lab the professor could not deal with. He said a student will accompany you. Although why, I have no idea. You know the way unless you are not the same Hermione Granger that was once a student here."

Hermione turned back to the stairs, hearing someone running towards her, breaking out in a wide smile to see Hugh. "I missed you, kid-o," she said quietly, pulling him into a hug. "What's up?"

"Nothing." He toed the ground, looking at Minerva uncomfortably.

"I see I am not needed here," Minerva said, fighting back a smile. "He may give you his version of what happened before our dear Professor does. I will be in my quarters if I am needed."

"It's good to see you, Minerva. I wasn't expecting you to be here," Hermione said. "Perhaps we can get together over tea some time soon."

"Yes, yes…that would be quite nice. " She cocked an eye at Hugh and gave him her best glare. "I am the resident grouch here or so it seems," she chuckled. "A prize position that affords me to come and go as I wish. They call it advisor…I, a paid retirement."

Waiting until she had left, Hugh threw his arms around Hermione's waist, hugging her tightly. "I want to come home."

"I thought you liked it here, you couldn't wait to get back. Now, tell me what happened in the lab?"

"I think they read our mail."

"Oh." Hermione tried not to laugh. "They didn't when I was a student here and stop avoiding my question."

"You weren't in Slytherin and didn't have you as a …didn't have a mother that…bloody hell. It's hard to have a mother they teach about in history and now your name is even in the potion text with the new way of doing some potions."

Hermione assured him he was mistaken about having his mail read as they walked down the hallway side by side. The closer they got to the stairs the less she heard what he was saying, until a sharp tug to her hand brought her back to reality.

"You're not listening again. Do you want to hear my side or not?"

"Yes I am. I was just thinking about what you were saying." She started down the steps, clutching the banister and walking slower the closer she got to the bottom. She smelled smoke and heard the cries of battle behind her and saw the darkness in front of her. _This is foolish_, she thought, _I'm over this. _"Hugh? I have something in my shoe. You run and let the Headmaster know I am here while I fix it." Sitting on the bottom step, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the feeling of panic to leave her. Hearing two sets of footfalls, she recognised one as Hugh's stride and knew he had brought Severus before she could see them.

"You okay, Sis?" Hugh's voice forced her eyes to focus on him.

"I…I…yes, of course. I told you it was just my shoe."

"Allow me." Severus took her elbow and helped her up. "Mr. Granger was very concerned as to your well being."

"I am fine, Hugh. Goodness, I'm just…fine. It's the first time I've been back." She smiled thinly at Severus. "I wasn't expecting this."

Severus held on to her elbow as the three of them walked to his personal quarters. Dropping the wards he opened he door and stepped aside, letting Hermione enter first. "Mr. Granger, you are already late for Charms. I suggest you hurry. If Professor McMillan has any questions he may contact me."

"Is she going to be okay?" Hugh stood on his toes and tried to see around Snape.

"If not you will be the first to know," Snape said flatly. "Do you plan on forcing me to deduct points from my old house again or do you plan on doing as you are told?"

"As I am told, sir." Hugh swallowed hard, turned and ran away, casting an occasional glace back over his shoulder as he went.

Severus closed the door, went to his liquor cabinet, and poured Hermione a drink watching her closely as he did. "If you need the loo it is through that door."

She grimaced and ran from the room, making it just in time to vomit. Sitting on the floor next to the toilet, she thought she was as embarrassed as she could be, until Severus handed her a flannel and laid another one, dampened with cool water, on the back of her neck. "I am not like this anymore." She choked. "It's this place. I hate it here. I hate it. You should have taken the headmaster chambers in the tower instead of staying down here."

"You shouldn't have come," he said tersely. "Your son will expect an explanation as to your _illness_."

"I know. I'll be honest and tell him it is only memories," she sighed. "I passed a plaque on the way in, out by the gate. I was going to ask Minerva about it but Hugh was there."

"The war dead. It was the Ministry's idea."

"I know what it is. I was just surprised that you never mentioned it. How long has it been up?"

"I saw no point." He helped her up from the floor and held her arm until she was seated in the sitting room. "When Minerva stepped down, she insisted she did not want her picture hung with the other Headmasters but preferred instead to be remembered as the one responsible for the memorial."

"It has Voldemort's followers right there with the…"

"No, it has all of Hogwarts' students, those past and present. Yes, some were with Voldemort, but her idea was to remember all. It is Minerva's idea of healing old wounds and showing the youth the true cost of war. Perhaps I should point out the names of the Dark Lord's men to Hugh and explain that you knew most of them."

"No!" She spat, scrambling to her feet and facing him, poking him in the chest with her finger. "If you ever….ever, do you hear me? If you ever tell him such a thing, I will hex you. I will hex you until you wish you…"

She stopped seeing him raise his eyebrow and a look of mirth cover his face. "I see you have recovered. Quite the cure for a Gryffindor. Anger works every time."

"Arse," she hissed, pushing pass him.

"Know-it-all."

"Bat."

"Bushy haired teacher's pet."

"Greasy haired git."

"Bossy toe rag."

"I have more." Hermione started grinning.

"As do I." Severus folded his arms over his chest, smirking at her.

"Who called me a toe rag?"

"Since it is a Muggle expression…"

"I know." She held up her hand to stop him. "Not one of your Slytherins."

"No, not one of mine." He set his glass down and picked up his quarterly potions journal. "Your idea of _melting chocolate_ and _tempering eggs_ has been quite the success."

"You wrote an article on it?'

"No, I submitted your study and findings."

Hermione flipped it open and rifted through the pages until she found the article that had her name in bold letters under the title. "I wish you hadn't done this."

"It was…is…your work."

"Now, tell me what the problem is with Hugh then we can go over the medical records." She said evenly, tossing the journal of the end table.

"He is exhibiting uncontrolled temper. Whereas I would normally contact a student's family I thought in this case it was not warranted."

"How so?"

"Do you need to ask?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insinuate that you couldn't handle it, just that I should know what is going on."

"Teenage drama, do you need to know more?"

"Severus, I've had enough today," she said, unable to hide her frustration. "I saw Minerva on the way down. She said something about Hugh giving me his side of the story."

"He hexed two of the older students, resulting in their spending the night in the infirmary and today a caldron exploded under rather suspicious circumstances."

"They have retaliated then?"

"A strange question. I thought you would be more interested in what hex he used, or why he did it."

"Of course I am. However, I remember how things work around here and I want to make sure he's safe or he comes home with me today."

"They have satisfied themselves with simple things, tripping him in the hallways, destroying his homework, the usual teenage revenge. I believe today's incident was an unexpected result of trying to foul the potion he was brewing."

"Now, why did he hex them?"

"It seems one of his housemates has a mother that worked in St. Mungo's. She remembers your parents adopting a…"

"Fuck!" Hermione spat and headed for the liquor cabinet. "What did Hugh say before he hexed them?"

"Nothing," Severus said with a smirk. "A good Slytherin would never warn his opponents."

"And his punishment?"

"That is what we have to decide." Severus sighed heavily. "The new rules say he could be expelled. Minerva is against the idea."

"And you?" She held her glass in both hands, turning to study his face.

"If he does not alter his ways, what we have seen is only the beginning. I agree with Minerva in her assessment that making him face up to what he has done is best. By removing him from the situation you will be condoning it."

"We both know what they were saying to him and why Hugh lost his temper." She tipped up her glass and emptied it in one go. "It is bad enough to know I gave him away, but now…to know I was on the loony ward … good grief. He'll come home with me."

"That is your choice," he said coldly. "However I do not think you understand completely what was said to him."

Hermione watched as he went to the floo and contacted Minerva. "You…you don't approve. I…I am still new at this mother thing, but I know how things work here. I remember enough to know it's not safe." She tuned and walked to the door pulling it open and watching for Hugh to come down the hallway.

"He has to face his history. If in doing so he fights, better to do it here then on the pavement when is older and strong enough to do some real damage. Hermione, stop doing this and listen. For once in your life think before you run away."

"How dare you!" she spat.

"He knows you were raped. It seems that Jenkins's mother felt free to impart that bit of information as well."

Hermione felt her stomach fall as she yanked the door to the hall open. Looking to her left, she had a sudden vision of the last time she was here. She stepped out and walked further into the corridor, puzzled by something she could not place. "Severus?" she said, hearing him walking behind her. "I…where does this go? I don't remember ever going beyond here…doesn't it just end at the back stairs?"

"Yes. There is an old storage room. You are in front of it now. We keep it warded and under a cloaking spell to keep the students away. You have yourself to thank for that precaution."

"Me? Oh," she laughed thinly. "I didn't steal the ingredients from here. I took them from your lab. Severus, the night of the battle…why would Death Eaters be down here? If they knew you weren't here, and had been gone for hours, and your chambers… I don't remember your chamber doors that night." She looked back at him confused and lost. "Did you hide them the same way when you went out? Cloak them from sight?"

"At that time I did not reside down here. So, yes, these chambers were hidden."

"Someone must have been looking for it. They opened the door to the storeroom instead. It opened here," she said, pointing to the space Severus had said the storeroom was. "There were more. There were more than just the two I remembered!"

"Hermione?" He crossed the distance between them and grabbed her upper arms, watching her face carefully for any hint of another break.

"I remembered someone grabbing me, pushing me against the wall and fighting him…duelling. Then I …when I threw the hex and fell…I was surprised at how fast he got around me and behind Ron, but it wasn't him at all. There had to be more. The one behind me, the one that raped me, and the one behind Ron, but there were more. More that came out of the room."

"What else do you remember?" He pushed a stray wisp of hair from her face.

"Ron and I were in the middle. They were fighting each other when I surprised them. That's why they didn't kill me. The Death Eaters…they were fighting each other and we were caught in the middle!"

"Come back into my chamber, Hermione."

'No, not yet. There… I was standing there." She moved to the place she had indicted and pulling her wand threw a Nox down the hallway, the only light now was the one that spilt out of Severus' doorway. "There…it wasn't completely dark. I should have been able to see more. It was like this… light coming from the doorway. Why did I remember it as completely dark? If it were…how could I have seen at all?"

"Anything else? Who raped you?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "I am glad for that. Not knowing…at least I don't completely remember that part. Only Ron, the pain…the pain was worse than anything I can imagine. Even what happened to me at the Malfoy Manor…the pain was…blinding.

It was later…I thought it happened at the height of the battle. It's the way I remembered it." She pushed away from Severus and turned back to look at the spot where Ron had fallen. "Or the way I wanted to remember it. It was after. We were looking for survivors. I came down here because I heard something and thought someone may need help. I must have surprised them."

"We kept the rare ingredients here. It is possible they were taking the opportunity to loot."

"It could be. I guess I'll never know." She turned back to him and smiled thinly. "I dreaded coming here, now…its nothing. He died here. He died but that's all, it's not as scary as…"

"Who died down here?" Hugh asked.

"Someone a long time ago," Hermione stammered. "I swear I'm going to tie a cow bell around your neck so I can hear you coming. Now, what's this I hear about you cursing your housemates?"

"It was their fault," he said defiantly, lifting his chin.

"No one pointed your wand for you did they? No one put the words in your mouth." She said, her voice getting louder.

"They said things about you."

"Did they say anything that didn't happen? Or did they say your mother is a crazy unmarried witch?"

Hugh swallowed hard and glanced up at Severus. "They called you names and said…said other things."

"I see," Hermione said, knowing the types of words they would have used and tried to hold back the rage that she felt spinning out of control. "Should I tell you what can happen if your curse goes wild? Should I tell you what happens if you throw a hex without thinking? Do you want to kill your best…"

"Hermione!" Severus stopped her short, waving Hugh off to his chambers as he crossed to her.

"She don't understand," Hugh said, looking up at Snape.

"Does not, and yes she does, only too well," he said, automatically correcting the boy. "Your mother is not…" he stopped, glancing at Hermione, "we will finish this discussion later."

"A tart? A whore? I really think I know every thing they could have called me. What did you expect them to say? Why do you think we wanted to keep you away from this world until you were old enough to understand? Why…"

"Miss Granger, I am sure…Mr. Granger, you may wait in my chambers." He waited until the boy was inside and the door shut before turning back to her. "A boy of that age would also describe what he wished to do with a …loose witch. I am sure he does not want to say that in your presence, nor do you want to hear it."

"He knows I was raped?"

"Yes, at least he was told. If he believes it or not you will have to wait to find out."

"Great," she sighed and stared at the door to Severus's chamber. "It's times like this I wish he was a girl. At least they only try to hurt the person they are talking to, not the whole fucking family. Who were they? Jenkins and who?"

"It is times like this that I am glad you are a witch." He tipped up her face and smirked at her before leaning down and brushing her lips softly with his own.

"He shouldn't see us like this…" she stammered, pushing him away.

"I disagree. Better that he learns from us then from his housemates."

"Learns what Severus? That we have been sleeping together? He knows that already. Do you think a boy needs to see that his mother is exactly what they say she is?" She saw his face grow hard and recognised by the set of his jaw that he was close to anger. "You have never made any promises other than to 'see where it goes', have never hinted that this is anything more than what it is. I can, and have, accepted that. I will be happy with the time you give me. It is more than I have ever had before, but a boy needs more. He needs to know that his…mother…or sister…will always be there…and not with a sometime lover or out whoring with his Headmaster. Isn't that what his housemates are saying? Saying that a raped witch was…was asking of it"?

"This is not the place for this discussion," he scowled at her.

"Where is the right place?" She shook her head sadly. "I don't want to lose you. Not yet. But I don't think I have any other choice."

"You won't," he leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. "We will talk tonight."

She sighed, looking over his shoulder to see the door to his chambers cracked open. "Great. Now he's watching us and listening to everything we say."

Severus stepped back from her and turned to the door. "I better have that talk now. He needs to understand."

"No, we just discussed this. No…no, not yet. You'll come for dinner tonight? Just dinner, but we can…talk about it then and Dr Mueller's condition. Its awful…even with a potion it may be too late."

"He needs to hear it, Hermione. I will be as diplomatic as possible. I do have experience with young boys. Leave the medical records upstairs in my office. I'll go over them before tonight." With a curt nod, he stalked into his chambers, his robes fanning the air behind him leaving Hermione to fume.

**~o0o~**

Later that night the sound of his apparation rattled the kitchen windows, a sure sign that his concentrations was off. Without knocking on the door, he stormed into the kitchen and began pacing, glaring at Hermione as he did.

"Now what did he do?" she sighed, trying to wrestle his wet robes off his shoulders as he walked.

"Nothing, nothing at all," he spat, taking them off and throwing them at her.

"Sit down. I fixed an old fashion Shepherds Pie. Eat, that always makes you feel better. I thought it just right for a cold stormy day."

"He tricked me."

"He what?" Hermione slid dinner on the table and turned to collect the serving spoon. "Just how did a thirteen year old trick you? I told you to leave it to me…but no…the voice of experience had to jump in with both feet."

"After discussing what he was not to do, and the fact that you are not…do not have the morals of a gutter snipe, he admitted his father's name was not amongst those listed on the memorial. In keeping with the lie you …"

"Don't blame me I …"

"As I was saying," he ground out, "in keeping with the lie you told him, he believes that whereas, yes, you may have been raped, he knows you were pregnant at the time. Since you delivered early, he believes you were already carrying him at the time. Remind me to move the tomes on human gestation to the restricted section. Then, when he inquired as to his father's loyalty, I, like the fool I have become, said his father was not a Death Eater. I blame you. You are directly at fault for putting me in this situation."

"What is wrong with that?"

"Miss Granger, if I were not privy to his father's identity how would I have known that?"

"He…he won't…perhaps he won't notice. If he does…now is the time to lie."

"Not notice? Not notice? It seems your friend Harry Potter already took care of that."

"What are you talking about?"

"It seems before Potter was no longer welcomed in your parent's home, he told young Mr. Granger a story. The story concerned my dying. I am sure he will claim some feeble-minded illness struck him and he never intended to brag to a young child about his part in the horrors of war. Potter! Fool!"

"He must have… he would have told…Hugh wouldn't …shite."

"So, you think you understand? I do not think you fully grasp the situation, Miss Granger. My name is not among the dead. I did not die as a Death Eater but am, on occasion, touted out as the Order's hero. As far as your dunderhead of a son thinks, you left the world thinking I was dead. Potter saw me die, you thought it, and later told him his father had died in the great…great indeed…battle."

"I did," she said meekly, standing with her back to the counter, her hand searching for her wand as she inched along.

"That is not the point!" he thundered at her.

"You told him…that it's not you…you told him right? That you just added your name to his to make things easier. You told him on Christmas…but you reminded him again…right?"

"Several times."

"And?" she demanded, forgetting her wand and leaning her hands on the table and glaring at him.

"He smiled."

"Christ," she muttered, slumping into the chair. "It's your fault, yours and that damnable idea of redoing his birth certificate. I knew it was a stupid idea."

"Yes, I see you can still pay attention if I make myself heard," he shouted at her. "The boy is a dunderhead. I put the blame on your parents. That, and his close association with Potter."

"He knows we spent the night together and he saw you kiss me. He may think we were …close when I was a …fuck. Now he thinks his mother had an affair with her professor."

"He knows this is my home and that…"Severus ran his hands though his hair. "We should have been more careful."

"Now is a find time to worry about it. He saw me wearing nothing but your shirt! And if I remember you thought it was quite funny…quite the joke," she said, her voice becoming shrill. "It was wrong. I made a mistake. I shouldn't have done this…"

"Stop." He stood and walked around the table and pulled her up into his arms. "It was not a mistake."

"I didn't mean you were a mistake." She lifted her hand and put in on his face. "I could never think that. It was my mistake to let it happen here. I should have been more careful."

"He was sleeping. We didn't plan on…"

"I know," she sighed. "Sit. Dinner is getting cold. No point in letting it go to waste. I'll talk to him when he comes home. He thought you were going to dump me…I'll tell him you did."

"Joy," he intoned.

"Snape, it's only a matter of time. We both know that. You have never…"

"I have given you no reason to think that," he returned, his voice flat.

"Look at me. Now tell me you will always be here and pretend you mean it. You've never even said you care for me or that you ever intended this to be a long time relationship. I know where I stand…I just hoped…you know…that we would have longer."

He folded his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at her. "The fact that you distrust our…our….whatever, is an indication not of my shortcomings but of your lack of self-respect and self-esteem. Do not, I repeat, do not lay the fault for your ignorance in this matter anyplace other than where it falls."

"Are you trying to tell me that you…you care for me?'

"What does it sound like?" he mumbled.

"That has to be the damndest declaration I have ever heard." She smiled and began to laugh. "You do know the L word is not hard to say."

He reached in his waistcoat pocket and handed her a folded piece of parchment. As she began to unfold it, she saw the Ministry seal and sat down heavily in a chair as her eyes ran down the page. Looking up at him, her eyes welled with tears.

"You need to sign it," he said, waving his hand at the parchment. "It is a small thing."

"A marriage licence is not a small thing."

"It is a minor discrepancy," he smirked at her. "Did I or did I not take you to bed, at which time we engaged in sexual intercourse. Sexual intercourse, which is needed to conceive a child? It is past due. Sign it."

"You're mad. What do you plan on doing? Leave this laying around for him to see and then pretend we signed it a decade ago but never made it to the Ministry? "

"Mad? Yes. Again, I place the blame on you. And yes, mere discrepancies in time that we can now fix and let that idiot son of yours believe what he wants."

"A fourteen year discrepancy."

"And a thirteen year old boy that does not object. It will be far easier this way. It will make a formal change of name unnecessary."

"He already has our names and I'm not sure that should change," she muttered.

"Your current name, yes. However once you change your name it will…"

"Mine?"

"Yes, once it changes to Snape, it will be easier to…"

"This is your idea of a marriage proposal?" Her eyes flew back to the licence and saw the date that of today.

"I…,"he tugged his waistcoat down and adjusted this cuffs, "if you need a formal…," he looked back at the door as if contemplating running, "I think we should discuss this…" He stopped and clamped his mouth shut.

"You," she said standing up and putting her finger in the middle of his chest, "are speechless. Hell has indeed frozen over." She laughed and dragged her finger across his chest and to his side as she walked around him slowly. "I may never see this again. Please…no…stand still…I want to engrain this moment in my memory."

He waited until she was again in front of him then grabbed her hand and yanked her to him. "Are you quite done?"

"Not a chance." She smiled and pressed her body against his. "I want to watch you squirm."

"That, my dear, can readily be accomplished." He pulled her through the sitting room and up the stairs to his bedroom hearing her laughter and thought it about time Spinner's End heard it as well.


End file.
